


Kiss Each Other Clean

by enigmaticblue



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Sex Pollen, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony doesn’t mean to sleep his way through the entire team; it just sort of happens. (Or, Tony breaks up with Pepper, sleeps with a lot of people under various circumstances, and ends up where he’s supposed to. Alternate title: Tony Fucks Everyone)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains slightly dubious consent of the sex pollen variety, and drunken Asgardian sex orgies. Proceed (or don't) accordingly.

Tony stares at the mostly-empty bottle of scotch, wishing he could refill it with his brain. He should really get on that, because he’s pretty sure that kind of invention would _change lives_.

 

Although maybe not for the better.

 

He’s still trying to decide whether he’s done for the night, or if he’s going to get another bottle, when the elevator doors open.

 

“I’m not at home!” he calls out, because only Pepper and Coulson can get into the Penthouse without Jarvis notifying him that he has company, and he doesn’t want to see either of them.

 

“So, how drunk are you right now?” Bruce asks, and Tony makes a quick mental correction.

 

There are only _three_ people with that level of clearance, but Bruce is supposed to be—somewhere else. He can’t remember where at the moment.

 

“Either very drunk or not drunk enough, depending on your point of view,” Tony admits, squinting at Bruce. He’s grown his hair out again, and he’s got a few days’ worth of stubble on his face. And he’s very tan. “I thought you were somewhere else.”

 

“Indonesia,” Bruce agrees, sitting down next to Tony on the couch. “Disaster relief work. Which is it? Very or not enough?”

 

It takes Tony a moment to parse through Bruce’s words, which is probably a good indication of the answer, once he figures that out. “Very drunk, but I haven’t passed out yet, so not enough.”

 

“You know, if you drank less just in general, it probably wouldn’t take as much to knock you out,” Bruce points out.

 

“What are you doing back here?” Tony asks, ignoring Bruce’s suggestion. “You left.”

 

“I said I’d come back,” Bruce replies.

 

“Not for six months.” Tony can’t remember how long it’s been, but he’s pretty sure it’s not six months, and he hadn’t planned on asking Bruce to cut his trip short.

 

Bruce sighs and pours himself a drink, taking a sip. “Pepper called me.”

 

Tony scowls. “She shouldn’t have. I’m fine.”

 

“Pretty sure you’re not,” Bruce replies. “Which is normal after a breakup.”

 

Tony tips his head back against the couch and closes his eyes. “Did she tell you that I fucked up?”

 

“She just said it was time, and it wasn’t working out,” Bruce says gently. “This kind of thing doesn’t have to be anybody’s fault.”

 

Tony rubs his eyes. “She thought I was done being Iron Man.”

 

“You’ll be done with Iron Man about the same time I’m done with the Other Guy,” Bruce says wryly. “I thought Pepper would know that.”

 

“She knew, she just didn’t like it, and eventually it was too much.” Tony doesn’t normally spill his guts like this, but it’s _Bruce_ ; he’s always been able to talk to Bruce. “Why did you come back?”

 

“Because you’re my friend, and you needed me,” Bruce says. “But say the word, and I’ll get lost.”

 

“No, stay,” Tony says immediately, because he’s touched beyond words that Bruce would cut his trip short and fly back to New York, just because Tony had a breakup. “Think I’m done with this, though.”

 

“Done with what?” Bruce asks.

 

“Love,” Tony replies morosely. “It’s overrated, and it always ends. I’m done with it.”

 

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” Bruce replies, standing up and hauling Tony up with him. “I’d say that you’ll feel better in the morning, but I’m pretty sure the hangover is going to make you wish you were dead.”

 

Tony laughs, but the sound doesn’t hold much humor. “The hangover I can deal with,” he mutters.

 

“Come on,” Bruce says, and tone is curiously gentle. “Bed. Get some sleep and sober up, because I have an idea that I want your help on.”

 

Tony grunts. “You’re just saying that.”

 

“Nothing but the truth,” Bruce replies, walking Tony down the hall to his bedroom.

 

As Tony undresses clumsily, Bruce fills a glass of water and shakes out a couple of aspirin. “Take these, and drink the water. It might help dull the edge tomorrow.”

 

He’s nearly out the door when Tony calls out, “Bruce?”

 

“Yeah?” he asks from the doorway.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Bruce smiles briefly. “Any time.”

 

And Tony feels just a little bit better than he had before.


	2. Steve

Steve pauses as he walks into the briefing room, a little surprised to see Bruce sitting next to Tony, who is slouched in a chair, wearing sunglasses.

 

“Bruce, I didn’t know you were back in the States,” he says, deciding to ignore Tony right now. He’s pretty sure the man is hung over; he hopes Bruce has at least ensured that he’s not still drunk.

 

“I cut my trip short,” he says, his lips quirking up in a smile.

 

Bruce doesn’t look at Tony, but Steve has heard that he and Pepper had broken up, and Steve appreciates the fact that Bruce is a good enough friend that he’s willing to drop everything and travel halfway around the world.

 

“Did Pepper call you?” Natasha asks as she comes into the room.

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “I didn’t mind.”

 

Natasha gives Bruce a considering look, but says nothing more. Clint saunters into the room a couple of minutes later, and then Sitwell joins them. He doesn’t even blink when he catches sight of Bruce.

 

“Thanks for joining us, Dr. Banner,” Sitwell says. “We could use you on the ground.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “You mean you need the Other Guy.”

 

“No, I mean _you_ , since our current problem is something of a mad scientist.” Sitwell gives Clint a look. “Now that you’re all here, we can get started.”

 

Clint looks completely unrepentant, but then he’s chronically late to briefings—although Clint would probably claim that he’s right on time.

 

Sitwell gives them a rundown of the situation, and Steve splits his attention between Sitwell and his teammates. He’s read the notes, so he knows what to expect. Steve likes to see his team’s reaction to gauge where they’re at and what he might need to watch for in any given situation.

 

He doesn’t usually worry about Natasha or Clint, who are consummate professionals, at least in the field. Thor isn’t there, but he’s pretty much impervious, and a seasoned warrior. Bruce can usually be trusted to keep his head, unless there’s an explosion right under his feet, and then all bets are off.

 

But Tony—Tony is always a little erratic. He can be trusted to get the job done—Steve learned that lesson—but he’s inclined to go off on his own and ignore orders when it suits him.

 

And now that Tony and Pepper have broken up, Steve’s a little worried that he’s going to be even more unpredictable.

 

“Captain Rogers?” Sitwell prompts.

 

“Hawkeye, we’ll need you to provide cover,” Steve orders. “Our intel on the warehouse suggests there’s one main area where most of his men congregate.”

 

Natasha shifts in her chair.

 

“And women,” Steve amends. “People.”

 

Tony finally cracks a smile, but he stays quiet otherwise. As much as Steve appreciates that, it doesn’t bode well.

 

“His science experiments are in the various labs. We’ll need to clear a way in. Bruce, I know it’s not what you’re used to, but I’d like you to pair up with Widow,” Steve says. “You can work on clearing the labs.”

 

“What am I supposed to be doing?” Tony asks. “Shouldn’t I go with Bruce?”

 

“You’re with me,” Steve replies. “There are plenty of labs, and I’m going to need your expertise.”

 

Bruce winces, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

Tony subsides at that. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

 

Steve knows it’s not going to be a terribly pleasant task. “Thank you,” he says with chilly courtesy.

 

He’s leaving to suit up when Bruce calls, “Steve! Hey, Steve!”

 

Steve slows down slightly, allowing Bruce to catch up. “What’s up?”

 

“Go easy on Tony, okay?” Bruce asks earnestly. “He’s had a rough couple of weeks.”

 

Steve softens a bit. It’s hard to say no to Bruce when he’s being sincere in his request for something, and he’s pretty sure Bruce has used that to his advantage.

 

“I’ll do my best,” Steve promises, because he can’t do anything else.

 

Steve likes Bruce, but he also feels somewhat responsible for what had happened to him; if Bruce hadn’t been looking for a way to replicate the super soldier serum, he might have had a normal life.

 

Maybe it’s stupid, and Steve shouldn’t feel responsible—the psychiatrist that Fury had briefly made him see would have said as much—but that doesn’t change anything.

 

“Thanks,” Bruce says, clapping Steve on the arm in a friendly gesture. “Just keep him in one piece for me, huh?”

 

Steve nods. “Sure thing.”

 

Because if there’s one thing Steve knows, it’s that the only person—other than Pepper—who has a prayer of understanding Tony is Bruce. And if Bruce needs Steve to keep an eye on Tony, then that’s what he’ll do.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony remains standing in the Quinjet since he’s wearing his suit. Bruce is wearing his usual collared shirt and rumpled khakis, and the sight unsettles Tony slightly. Everyone else is wearing their tactical gear—black leather for Natasha and Clint, the blue spangly suit for Steve. Bruce seems out of place and vulnerable, fiddling with his glasses absentmindedly as they land on the roof of a nearby warehouse.

 

Tony could have arrived sooner if he’d gone alone, but Steve had decreed that they’d all travel together, and Tony’s lingering headache means he’s disinclined to fight about it.

 

Bruce would tell him that’s the dehydration talking, since Tony has been consuming more alcohol than water, even if Tony’s been drinking less with Bruce around because they’ve been spending more time in the lab. Bruce refuses to work with him when he’s drunk, and Tony’s fairly certain that Bruce is managing him, but he doesn’t really mind.

 

It takes a genius to know a genius after all.

 

“Hawkeye, notify us when you’re in place,” Cap orders, pulling his cowl over his face.

 

Clint scrambles out of the jet with graceful efficiency, snapping his bow open and leaping off the side of the building.

 

Natasha snorts, deeply unimpressed by what she likes to call Clint’s “unnecessary theatrics,” but Bruce watches the maneuvers with a keen interest.

 

Tony realizes that this is the first time they’re going into the field as a team _without_ Bruce transforming, and he’s not usually present for the preliminaries.

 

Generally speaking, if they need the Hulk, they need him big, green, and ready to smash as soon as they’re on site. Otherwise, SHIELD would prefer Bruce to stay well clear of any emergencies.

 

“Bruce, are you on coms?” Cap asks.

 

Bruce looks a little startled, and then he fishes around in his pocket, fumbling the earpiece.

 

“Here,” Natasha says, plucking it out of his hand and inserting it.

 

“Thanks,” he says a little sheepishly. “Sorry, Cap. I forgot. I’m not used to it.”

 

“No harm, no foul,” Cap says reasonably, and Tony wonders why he rarely gets that kind of slack, although he’s not surprised that Bruce neglected the earpiece, since he never wears one on missions.

 

“I’m in,” Hawkeye says quietly. “I count nine bad guys, but target is nowhere in sight. Recommend that Widow, Iron Man, and Cap enter first, then start clearing the labs.”

 

“You heard him,” Cap says.

 

Tony doesn’t have to be told twice. He flies over to the entrance and waits for the others to join him, since they have to take the fire escape down.

 

SHIELD’s tech experts had disabled the surveillance cameras as soon as Clint gave the word, which has probably sent up the alarm inside. When Cap skids to a stop next to Tony, Tony blows the door when Cap gives the signal.

 

Bruce hangs back behind Natasha, while Tony and Cap lead the way, shielding the other two as the henchmen open fire on them. Cap throws up his shield, and Tony starts firing his repulsor beams. Arrows streak down from above as Clint fires rapidly, and Natasha darts out from behind them, taking down henchmen with an efficiency that Tony finds both wildly hot and incredibly scary.

 

“Clear!” Cap calls as soon as the last henchman falls. “Widow, Banner, take the east side of the warehouse,” he orders. “Iron Man, you’re with me.”

 

The micro-transmitters on the new suit allow for more control, which means that Tony can easily remove his gauntlets, which could be necessary if he has to handle sensitive equipment.

 

There are maybe half a dozen rooms on the western side of the warehouse, and each has to be cleared. So far, there’s no sign of the mad scientist, but one of the labs gives Tony pause. There’s a metal cylinder, with pipes and tubes, and a timer.

 

Tony hates timers—unless, of course, he’s set one.

 

“Can you disarm it?” Cap asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Tony says. “But I only have two minutes to find out. It might be time to get out of here, Cap. Clear the building.”

 

“There’s not enough time,” Cap replies. “Bruce, Natasha, we have a problem. Clear the building.”

 

“Do you need me?” Bruce asks over the coms.

 

“I need you to get clear, because having the Other Guy show up would do a number on my concentration,” Tony says before Steve can reply. “Now, everybody shut up and let me focus.”

 

He flips up his faceplate and removes the gauntlets, quickly following the wires and tubing from the timer into the device itself.

 

“What kind of bomb are we talking about?” Steve asks.

 

“What part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?” Tony snaps.

 

Steve subsides with a grumble, but Tony ignores him in favor of the task at hand. He quickly determines how it’s been connected and armed, and another thirty seconds go by before he figures out how to disarm it without blowing them all up.

 

Tony does a quick double-check, and then puts on his right gauntlet and severs the appropriate wire. “Okay, I think we’re good.”

 

And really, Tony should learn not to jinx himself like that, because the next thing he knows, there’s some kind of gas that’s being emitted from the device, and Tony gets a face full of it and falls back, suddenly dizzy.

 

Steve, the idiot, rushes to Tony’s side, and gets hit with the gas as well.

 

“We have to get out of here,” Tony manages, flipping down the faceplate, trusting that the suit will start filtering out the toxins. “And close the door behind us. Widow, Hawkeye, if you’re still in the building, _get out_ , and have medical waiting for us.”

 

Steve is on his knees and has pushed his cowl back, gasping for air, and Tony grabs the back of Steve’s uniform and starts hauling him out, slamming the door behind them, grateful for the extra strength the suit gives him.

 

“I can walk,” Steve protests once they get clear of the room, and Tony switches his grip to Steve’s arm, hauling him to his feet, although not as gently as he probably could. It’s all he can do to keep them both upright and moving, and he has no time for gentleness.

 

The building is deserted on the way out, and Clint says, “Got him! I have our mad scientist pinned to the wall in the next building over.”

 

“Good job,” Steve manages to say. “Get back here.”

 

Bruce is there with the medics, and he says, “Tony, out of the armor. Steve, on the gurney. Let’s get them back to medical.”

 

“We still need to clear the building,” Steve objects.

 

“We have gas masks,” Natasha replies. “Bruce and I will take care of it, and we’ll meet you back on the helicarrier.”

 

Tony gets out of the armor and stashes it on the Quinjet, and then he lets the medics work on him, taking blood and vital signs. There’s a flurry of activity when they realize that Tony’s temperature is elevated, as is Steve’s.

 

“Any shortness of breath?” asks one of the medics, a young woman with her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

 

“Not now,” Tony says. “A little right at first.”

 

“Pulse is elevated,” the man working on Steve.

 

“Same here,” the young woman says. “I want isolation rooms waiting for them back at home base.”

 

Tony really isn’t feeling so hot, and he lets himself be hustled off the Quinjet when they land, into a set of scrubs, and into a bed in an isolation room.

 

He has no idea what’s going on, but he feels progressively worse. His skin feels too tight, like it doesn’t fit right, his head pounds, and his heart beats wildly against his chest. He’s sweating profusely, right through his scrubs and the sheets on the cot, and he’s vaguely aware of medical personnel coming in and out.

 

Time seems to go funny on him, and he has no idea how long he’s been there when Bruce enters the room. “Hey.”

 

“Bruce,” Tony says, feeling both relief and discomfort in even measure, and he can’t understand why. He _always_ likes having Bruce around. “What’s the story?”

 

Bruce reaches for Tony, closing his hand around Tony’s wrist, but the touch makes his skin crawl, and Tony yanks his hand away.

 

Bruce lets out a resigned little chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”

 

“What?” Tony asks, having a hard time focusing on Bruce.

 

“So, we analyzed the gas you were exposed to, and we got confirmation from the scientist we captured,” Bruce begins, sitting in the chair next to Tony’s bed, his hands clutching his knees. “It’s a drug that raises your blood pressure and heart rate to such an extent that it will eventually cause you to stroke out and die.”

 

“That sounds like the bad news,” Tony says. “What’s the good news?”

 

“We think we know how to keep that from happening,” Bruce replies. “It seems to be designed so that the neurotransmitters released during sexual activity will reverse the effects and cure it.”

 

Tony frowns, his brain not working at top speed. “So, you came in here to offer yourself as the sacrificial lamb?”

 

“Hmm, fucking you or letting you die?” Bruce says sarcastically. “Tough choice. I figured the other option was to call Pepper.”

 

“Don’t do that,” Tony orders.

 

“That doesn’t seem to be an option,” Bruce replies. “Judging by how you just responded to my touch, I think you’re going to have sex with a specific person to stop the poison.”

 

It takes him a few minutes, and then Tony realizes that there’s only one person to whom Bruce might be referring. “No.”

 

Bruce touches his arm again, and Tony groans aloud, although he doesn’t move away this time. “If you’re in pain when I’m touching you, it’s not going to do you any good. And call me crazy, but I think that having sex with Steve isn’t nearly as bad as dying.”

 

“You’re not the one who has to have sex with him,” Tony mutters. “How long do I have?”

 

“Maybe another twelve hours,” Bruce replies. “Not enough time for us to come up with another antidote.”

 

“What about the scientist?” Tony asks. “Does he have an alternative?”

 

“He didn’t bother finding one,” Bruce says, grimacing. “I’m pretty sure he wanted a fuck or die scenario with someone he’s interested in.”

 

Tony groans. “Bastard.”

 

“Yeah, Natasha had some fun with him,” Bruce admits. “Her descriptions of what she was going to do to him were very colorful.”

 

Tony frowns. “Wait. Who’s breaking the news to Steve?”

 

“Natasha,” Bruce says. “She volunteered on the off-chance that, you know, you didn’t have to have sex with each other.”

 

“I won’t,” Tony protests.

 

“Then you’ll both die,” Bruce says bluntly. “I can’t create an antidote in time, Tony.”

 

No matter what Steve had said, Tony’s willing to sacrifice a lot for his teammates, and for those he’s sworn to protect. That includes having sex with someone he doesn’t much like, and to whom he isn’t attracted.

 

It’s just sex, and there isn’t another choice. What else is he supposed to do?

 

“I don’t want a record of it,” Tony says. “And we never speak of it again.”

 

“Natasha and I will take care of it,” Bruce promises. “And Tony—I’m pretty sure Steve’s never had sex with a man before.”

 

“Does it matter who fucks who?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce shrugs. “No idea, but you may want to take the lead.”

 

Tony looks at the IV. “Give me a hand?”

 

Bruce detaches the IV gently, but doesn’t try to help Tony up, although he hovers nearby to offer a hand if necessary.

 

Steve is just down the hall, and as soon as Tony spots him through the door, he feels himself begin to harden in his scrub pants. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters.

 

“That’s the idea,” Bruce replies.

 

“You’re not a nice guy,” Tony accuses.

 

Bruce smirks. “Never said I was.” He opens the door, and Natasha rises from her chair.

 

“Clint brought lube and condoms,” Natasha informs Tony briskly. “Don’t ask why he had the former. Also, go easy on Steve.”

 

Tony nods jerkily, feeling as though his body doesn’t completely belong to him. He’s definitely turned on by the sight of Steve shifting on the bed, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, but he doesn’t _want_ to be.

 

On a normal day, Tony has absolutely no interest in Steve.

 

This is definitely not a normal day.

 

~~~~~

 

Steve hasn’t been in this much pain in a very long time, so long that he’d almost forgotten what it’s like. Every nerve feels as though it’s on fire, his head throbs in time to the too-fast beat of his heart, the sheets feel too heavy on his skin.

 

The medical personnel are in and out, and every time they touch him, his stomach twists with a revulsion that Steve doesn’t understand.

 

And then Natasha sits down next to him, explaining what has happened, and what she’s discovered from the scientist.

 

“I’ve never—” Steve begins.

 

“I thought as much,” Natasha replies, and places her hand over his.

 

Steve nearly throws up, which makes no sense, because he _likes_ Natasha, and he’s always found her attractive, and he just _doesn’t understand_.

 

“It’s okay,” Natasha says soothingly. “Bruce is explaining things to Tony. He’ll be here soon.”

 

“Bruce?” Steve asks, because that doesn’t sound right. Why would Bruce be needed right now?

 

“Tony,” Natasha replies. “Bruce suspected that the poison might cause you to desire only the person who was exposed with you. Apparently, that’s what happened.”

 

Steve doesn’t think he can handle that. He maybe could have dealt with it being Natasha, or one of his other teammates, but Tony?

 

“If you don’t do this, you will both die,” Natasha says severely, and Steve realizes that he’d spoken his thoughts out loud.

 

The door opens and Clint pokes his head in. “I got the stuff.”

 

Natasha nods. “Leave them on the table. They’ll need both.”

 

Clint offers a sympathetic grimace. “I’m sorry about this, Cap,” he says. “Sucks to have your will taken away.”

 

Oddly enough, that makes Steve feel a little better. “Yeah.”

 

“Good luck,” Clint offers, and then slips out of the room.

 

Bruce and Tony appear a minute later, and Steve dimly hears Natasha issuing instructions to Tony, but he’s too caught up in the sight of Tony to listen. Steve feels a rush of lust that feels wholly alien as Tony approaches his bed.

 

The door closes, and Tony glances up at the camera in the corner—Steve thinks that Natasha had said something about turning it off—and then he touches Steve’s arm.

 

The sheer relief that Tony’s touch brings causes Steve to go limp, even as his cock gets harder.

 

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Tony says a little breathlessly. “I need you to tell me you’re on board with this, Steve.”

 

There’s a dim corner of Steve’s mind that is _definitely_ not okay with this, but more than anything, he doesn’t want Tony to stop touching him right now. “Yes. Do it.”

 

Tony slides his hand under Steve’s shirt, and _oh, god_ , that’s even better. “If you have no objection, I think I’ll take the lead this time.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, and he’s pretty sure he’d agree with anything Tony says right now, although he’s careful not to voice that thought out loud. “Why are you in better shape than me?”

 

“Probably because I’m more used to being under the influence. Skin to skin contact helps, though,” Tony replies, and both of his hands are now under Steve’s shirt, skimming up and down Steve’s chest.

 

“Distracting,” Steve protests.

 

“That’s the idea,” Tony says, and helps Steve into a sitting position, pulling his shirt off over his head.

 

“You too,” Steve insists and returns the favor, because he thinks that if he can just get full body contact, he’ll feel much better.

 

“I guess we’re doing this,” Tony mutters, and drops his scrub pants as Steve pulls his own off.

 

And then he pushes Steve back down on the bed, straddling him, draping himself over Steve, who moans in sheer relief. For a moment, just that is enough, and then Steve finds himself rutting against Tony, needing friction.

 

They both come in just a few seconds, semen pooling between them, and for a moment Steve thinks that might have taken care of it.

 

And then he starts to get hard again, as does Tony, who groans. “I haven’t had this kind of recovery time since I was twelve.”

 

Steve runs his hands up and down Tony’s bare back. “What are we supposed to do?”

 

“Right now, I’m going to fuck you and hope that takes care of the problem,” Tony replies, panting a bit. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tony works Steve open slowly, using plenty of lube. The orgasm probably should have helped Steve relax, but he’s still tense with unmet need due to the drug.

 

Steve whines as Tony adds a second finger, still way too tight to attempt anything more. He glances over his shoulder and says, “Just do it.”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Tony replies through gritted teeth, looking at the expanse of Steve’s bare back. “Relax. Let me call the shots for once.”

 

Tony thinks he might be in better shape because the suit had filtered out at least some of the gas as soon as he flipped down the faceplate, but Steve didn’t have that luxury. And while Steve seems to be completely engrossed, Tony’s all too aware that neither of them would have wanted this without that damn drug.

 

That’s why Tony’s going to make certain that Steve has an enjoyable experience since he’s the one who has the most control.

 

Steve finally, _finally_ relaxes, and just in time, because Tony feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get to fuck Steve soon.

 

Tony adds a third finger, and Steve groans, although in pleasure, not in pain. “Do it.”

 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, and he rolls on a condom and presses inside, hanging on tightly to Steve’s hips. “Okay?” he asks, although right now he’s not sure he’d care if Steve said no.

 

“Okay,” Steve says, relief coloring his voice, and Tony begins fucking him in earnest.

 

He retains just enough presence of mind to jerk Steve off, trying to delay his own orgasm long enough to make Steve come.

 

Steve lets out a long moan and comes all over Tony’s hand, and Tony isn’t far behind. His orgasm hits him like a freight train, and whole world fades out.

 

~~~~~

 

When Steve becomes aware of his surroundings again, he’s immediately aware of how gross he feels, covered by drying semen and sweat. He’s also a little lightheaded, but his headache is mostly gone, and he doesn’t feel as though his skin is too tight anymore.

 

He’s aware of someone draped across his back, and Steve manages to extricate himself, finding the scrubs he’d been wearing on the floor.

 

He needs a shower, but he doesn’t want to leave the room until he knows that Tony is okay.

 

“Tony,” he calls quietly.

 

Tony shifts and rolls to his side. Steve can see the scar where the arc reactor had been, as well as the other faint white lines that mark other wounds. His whole chest is a mess, and Steve wonders how he’d ever believed that there was nothing more to Tony than a fancy suit.

 

“Hey, talk to me,” Steve says. “I need to know if you’re okay.”

 

Tony opens his eyes slowly, staring at Steve before groaning and closing his eyes again. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“I’m, uh, going to take a shower,” Steve says. “If that’s okay.”

 

Tony suddenly looks disgusted. “I need one of those, too.”

 

“If you want to go first,” Steve offers awkwardly.

 

“I’ve got my own shower,” Tony snaps, then seems to take a breath. “Sorry. It’s fine. Go get cleaned up.”

 

Steve nods. “Okay. And, um, thanks. I was pretty far gone.”

 

Tony rolls out of bed, reaching for his clothes. “So was I. It was purely selfish on my part, I assure you.”

 

“Tony.”

 

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Tony pulls on the scrubs in quick, jerky movements. “Ever.”

 

Steve doesn’t push. “Okay.”

 

“See you around, Cap,” Tony says, and then is out the door.

 

Steve doesn’t see that he has any other choice but to clean up and get into some different clothes, although he’s not sure where he’s going to come up with them.

 

The shower in the isolation room is tiny, small enough that he’s constantly bumping his elbows against the shower wall and has to duck to get his head under the spray.

 

When he’s sufficiently clean, Steve emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist only to find that someone had stripped the bed, removing all evidence of what had happened, and left a pile of his clothes on the bare mattress.

 

Steve quickly dresses, and then steps out into the hallway cautiously, somehow unsurprised to find Natasha waiting for him. “Hey.”

 

Natasha gives him a sharp look, and appears to be scanning him for any sign of trauma. “How are you?” she asks.

 

“Fine,” Steve replies. “I feel a lot better.”

 

She frowns. “The doctor will be the judge of that. I want to know if you’re okay.”

 

Steve realizes that she’s referring to the sex, which is already starting to feel like a very strange dream. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” Steve finally says. “Tony was—nice.”

 

“It’s good to know all that practice is good for something,” Natasha replies.

 

Steve clears his throat. “I know you offered first, and I really appreciate it.”

 

Natasha’s lips curve up in a smile. “It wouldn’t have been a hardship.”

 

He can feel himself blushing. “Oh. Okay.”

 

“Come on.” Natasha begins to steer him down the hallway. “The doctors need to see you, and then I’m sure you want to go home.”

 

Steve nods, although he feels a little prickle of uneasiness at leaving things with Tony like that. Still, Tony hadn’t seemed to want to talk. Steve needs to respect that choice.

 

~~~~~

 

When Tony finishes showering, he finds Bruce waiting for him with a set of clean clothes.

 

“You okay?” Bruce asks.

 

Tony shrugs. “I’m fine. I thought we weren’t going to talk about this.”

 

Bruce fiddles with his glasses. “I thought we weren’t talking about it. I’m asking if you’re okay.”

 

“I will be once I can get a drink,” Tony replies and begins pulling on his clothing.

 

Bruce looks away, giving him the illusion of privacy. “Medical wants to see you first.”

 

“Medical can go fuck themselves,” Tony replies, pulling his shirt over his head.

 

“Tony,” Bruce says, his voice holding a warning.

 

“No,” Tony snaps, glaring at Bruce. “I just want to go home. I’m fine.”

 

Bruce tucks his glasses away. “All right. Do you want a ride, or do you want to take the suit?”

 

“The suit,” Tony says definitively, wanting nothing more than to be alone for a while.

 

“At least eat something first,” Bruce replies, holding up a wrapped sandwich. “You were out of it for over twenty-four hours.”

 

Tony nods and takes the sandwich. “No one was watching, were they?”

 

“Natasha made sure of it, Clint stood guard, and I went to get you and Steve’s clothes,” Bruce confirms. “Sorry I couldn’t find an antidote in time.”

 

“You were laughing about this earlier,” Tony accuses, taking a bite of his sandwich.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I didn’t laugh. I just chose to see the humor in the situation rather than focusing on the fact that you were dying.”

 

Tony feels some of the tension leech out of him. “So, you were worried about me?”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You’re my best friend, so yeah, I might have been a little bit concerned.”

 

Tony abruptly remembers that Bruce had offered. “Thanks. For making the offer.”

 

Bruce just shakes his head. “I’ll see you back at home,” he says. “Be sure to drink plenty of water along with the alcohol, okay? You’re probably dehydrated.”

 

Tony nods. “I will.”

 

Bruce rises. “I’d better go placate the docs. Your suit’s in its usual place.”

 

The door closes behind Bruce, and Tony takes a deep breath. He’s not quite sure how to wrap his brain around what had happened. Right this minute, Tony feels no attraction for Steve, and yet he can remember how it felt to crave Steve’s touch, to burn with lust for him—pretty much literally.

 

He’s having a hard time reconciling his drug-fueled memories with reality, and he knows there’s only one way to do so.

 

Tony’s going to have to bury it deep.


	3. Thor

Tony watches as Bruce packs his bag. “I didn’t realize you were leaving.”

 

Bruce glances up. “Sorry. Dr. Selvig asked for my help, and I didn’t feel as though I could refuse him.”

 

Tony nods tightly, not wanting to let on to how much Bruce’s presence had meant to him the last few weeks. “Of course. Yeah.”

 

Bruce goes back to folding his shirts. “I’d ask you to come along, but Selvig is pretty…uh, territorial about the people who are involved in his projects. You understand.”

 

“Sure, of course,” Tony says, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

“Tony, I’m coming back,” Bruce says quietly, sincerely. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

 

Tony shrugs. “Right, of course. And even if you didn’t, it’s not a big deal. I don’t need a babysitter.”

 

“I never said you did,” Bruce replies mildly. “But I thought you might need a friend.”

 

“Yeah, great,” Tony says. “Obviously. I’ll be fine.”

 

“If we need you, I’ll definitely call you,” Bruce promises. “You won’t even miss me.”

 

Tony doesn’t know about that, but he’s unwilling to say so. “Right, yeah. Well, your room will be waiting for your return.”

 

“Thanks,” Bruce says, completely sincere. “I’ll definitely need it.”

 

There’s an electric moment when Tony thinks this might turn into something else—when it feels like Bruce might close the distance between them and kiss him, like if they were on a date and this had been the end of it.

 

But they’re not on a date, and Bruce looks away. “I’ll call you, see how things are going.”

 

“Right,” Tony says awkwardly, knowing that he’s repeating himself, and that he probably sounds like an idiot. “Absolutely.”

 

“It should only take a week, maybe two at the most,” Bruce says quietly.

 

Things are too awkward, which feels strange, given that Bruce is his best friend, and being with him shouldn’t feel this way.

 

Tony chalks it up to not wanting Bruce to leave, and decides to put it aside. “Keep in touch, huh? Let me know how things are going.”

 

“Sure,” Bruce promises easily. “I will.”

 

“Okay then,” Tony says. “Have a good time.”

 

“I will,” Bruce repeats, zipping up his battered duffel bag. “I have to go. The taxi is probably waiting for me.”

 

Tony moves aside and lets Bruce leave, resisting the urge to touch. He’s not sure what he’d do if he did, or how he’d stop.

 

And Tony isn’t ready for anything serious, not after Pepper; he doesn’t want to risk fucking up another relationship that’s important to him.

 

“Safe trip,” he belatedly calls after Bruce, and then proceeds to wander around his living quarters feeling as though he’s at loose ends.

 

He’s disgusted with himself, and he heads down to the lab, which is usually a surefire means of distraction, but it’s not working tonight. He keeps getting overwhelmed by sense memories of how it felt to be out of control, to be inside Steve, torn between wanting and not wanting.

 

Tony needs another distraction, since Bruce is gone and not around to pester.

 

“Sir, Thor has just arrived, and he would like to talk to you,” Jarvis informs him.

 

“Tell him I’ll be right up, J,” Tony replies, because Thor is nothing if not a distraction. “And to help himself to the beer.”

 

By the time Tony washes up and gets to the Penthouse, Thor is lounging on the couch with a beer in hand.

 

“My friend!” Thor says in his booming voice as soon as he sees Tony. “You look well.”

 

“I’m all right,” Tony replies, not wanting to go into details, and having no idea what Thor might have heard. Thor’s still wearing his Asgardian finery, so Tony assumes he hasn’t been on Earth long, or at least is here on business. “Good to see you. What brings you by?”

 

“Ah, down to business,” Thor says genially. “Very well. Jarvis informed me that Dr. Banner is not here at present.”

 

“No, he’s working on a project with Selvig,” Tony says, trying not to frown. “He should be back in a couple of weeks.”

 

Thor nods, looking a little disappointed. “I had thought to ask both of you to visit Asgard. We are rebuilding the Rainbow Bridge, and your input would be valued. Bruce would have been welcome as well, but we must leave immediately.”

 

“He’ll be sorry to miss the chance,” Tony says honestly, leaping at the chance of a real distraction. “But I’d love to go. When do you want to leave?”

 

“Immediately, if possible,” Thor replies. “You needn’t bring anything other than your armor. Everything else will be provided.”

 

Tony checks to see if he’s got his phone on him—not that he’s going to get reception. “Jarvis, let Bruce and Pepper know where I’m going.” He pauses. “How long do you think this is going to take?” he asks Thor. “Because I think I’m going to be in trouble if it’s for more than a few weeks.”

 

“I will have you back within the month,” Thor promises, rising from the couch, and Tony realizes that Thor has brought the tesseract with him. No wonder he wants to get off the planet so quickly.

 

That sounds good to Tony. “And let Bruce and Pep know about the timeframe,” he tells Jarvis.

 

Tony should probably call Bruce himself, but he’s probably in the air already, and he and Pepper are still communicating mostly by email and text.

 

Tony needs to get away for a while, and he needs a distraction. Asgard will serve admirably. He heads to the landing pad and his armor flies into place. “All right, let’s go,” Tony says. “I’m ready.”

 

Thor holds out the tesseract, and Tony takes the other end of the container. “So, if I can ask, why aren’t you asking the lovely Dr. Foster to go with you?” Tony hears the rumbling of thunder in the distance, and he winces. “Never mind. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.”

 

“There is no better cure for heartache than work,” Thor replies gravely. “Hold on.”

 

“Definitely holding on,” Tony promises, and then Thor twists, and Tony feels as though a giant hand has grabbed him, as though he’s being squeezed tightly, and he can’t breathe, and then he’s standing on a silvery bridge at the edge of a great chasm.

 

Tony looks down and immediately feels dizzy, and Thor’s arm comes down in front of him. “I beg your pardon,” Thor says. “We are a little close to the edge.”

 

Tony’s stomach twists, but he’s still awestruck by the great expanse of stars stretching out in front of him, the incredible waterfall just below their feet, by the material they’re standing on.

 

He stamps his foot, but gently. “What is this made of?”

 

Thor grins at him. “Something to ask Heimdall,” he replies. “You’ll get your chance tomorrow. Tonight, there is to be a feast in your honor.” Thor pauses. “Appropriate clothing will be provided.”

 

Tony doesn’t shrug, since the suit makes the gesture difficult, but he says, “When in Rome, I guess. Or Asgard.”

 

“I’m not sure what that expression means,” Thor admits.

 

“It means it’s better to follow the customs of the people you’re with, rather than sticking to your own,” Tony says. “It means I’d be happy to wear whatever you provide.”

 

Thor claps him on the shoulder, and the force is somewhat blunted by his armor. “Come then, Man of Iron, and make yourself at home, as you have done the same for me in your home.”

 

And Tony follows Thor along the silvery bridge and wonders what kind of adventure he’s gotten himself into now.

 

~~~~~

 

Thor is a little disappointed not to have been able to bring Dr. Banner to his home, although he is confident in Tony Stark’s abilities. He had thought that perhaps they would both prefer to have a familiar face on Asgard, other than his own. He knows how pleased he’d been to see Loki on Earth, before he’d known of Loki’s betrayal.

 

Thor has ordered appropriate clothing to be provided, and the suite of rooms next to his own to be prepared. Thor intends for Tony to be comfortable, and to enjoy his stay.

 

When Thor enters just prior to the feast, having given Tony time to freshen up and get changed, he spots the suit of armor in one corner, standing motionless. Thor frowns, finding the sight a little disturbing, given how alive the suit usually appears when Tony is inside.

 

“Tony?” Thor calls.

 

“Just a sec,” Tony replies from the direction of the bathing room. “I’ll be right out.”

 

Thor wanders around the room. He hasn’t asked many guests to stay here. Only a small number from the Nine Realms have been invited, and it is considered an honor accorded to few. He isn’t sure Tony knows that, but he hopes that Tony will at least curb his irreverence around the Allfather.

 

Tony emerges eventually, wearing dark blue and gold, tunic and trousers, breastplate and arm guards. “Does this look right to you?”

 

“You look wonderful,” Thor replies honestly, thinking that Tony is striking in Asgardian armor, his beard freshly trimmed and his hair slicked back. “I hope you don’t mind the dark blue. Red and gold in combination has a special significance.”

 

“No, this is great,” Tony insists. “I just wasn’t sure I put it on correctly.”

 

“All is in its proper place,” Thor assures him. “Are you ready?”

 

Tony shrugs, a trace of apprehension crossing his face. “Is there anything I should know?”

 

“Follow my lead,” Thor says. “Particularly when meeting my father.”

 

Tony nods. “Anything else?”

 

“Enjoy yourself,” Thor urges. “And let me know if you have any questions.”

 

Thor leads the way to the great hall, Tony just slightly behind him and to his right. As they enter the hall, the steward announces their presence, which makes Tony jump slightly.

 

Odin sits in his customary place, and he stand at their entrance, coming to meet them halfway.

 

Thor murmurs, “My father does you a great honor by greeting you this way.”

 

Tony jerks his head in acknowledgment, and Thor goes to one knee, as his father approaches. Tony follows his lead, as he’d promised.

 

“Rise,” Odin commands. “Tony Stark, you are most welcome.”

 

“The honor is mine,” Tony says smoothly, getting to his feet along with Thor. “I am grateful for your invitation.”

 

“Come,” Odin replies, the corners of his good eye creasing in something close to a smile. “The feast is in your honor. Enjoy.”

 

Tony inclines his head graciously, and Thor smiles, pleased with his friend’s responses.

 

“That was well done,” Thor murmurs as they find their seats.

 

Tony shrugs. “When in Rome, like I said. Plus, I figure your father could squash me like a bug. I’d rather keep him on my side.”

 

Thor smiles. “Well, that’s true enough. Thank you for understanding.”

 

“I wouldn’t embarrass you in front of your father,” Tony says quietly, completely sincere. “No one needs that.”

 

Thor nods and turns to Sif as she sits on the other side of Tony. “Lady Sif, this is Tony Stark. Tony, the Lady Sif.”

 

“Charmed,” Tony replies, taking the hand she offers and kissing it. “Are you the warrior of whom I’ve heard so many incredible stories?”

 

Sif laughs. “Oh, he’s a flatterer, Thor.”

 

“Maybe, but I never leave a partner unsatisfied,” Tony replies easily.

 

Volstagg, who sits across from them, says, “Ah, perhaps Sif has met her match.”

 

“If the stories of her prowess are any indication, I’m certain that’s not true,” Tony shoots back.

 

Sif gives Thor a look that he can easily read, and he hitches a shoulder. In truth, he had not planned on bedding Tony while he’s on Asgard, but he’s also not opposed to the idea, and tonight they’re celebrating, which involves a certain amount of revelry. To not offer Tony the opportunity would be inhospitable.

 

The food arrives, cutting off Volstagg’s response, although Hodun and Fandral are still chuckling over Tony’s wit.

 

Strong ale flows freely, and Tony drinks as deeply as any Asgardian warrior. Thor considers warning Tony about its potency, but he’s seen how much Tony can drink, and he believes Tony is capable of pacing himself.

 

“Tell us of this suit of yours,” Fandral says. “Thor tells us it gives you the strength of ten men, and protects you from all weapons.”

 

Tony grins. “Most weapons, anyway, and it does increase my strength considerably. You should see the Hulk, though. I wouldn’t want to go up against him in a fight.”

 

Thor rubs his jaw at the memory. “No, our green friend has a most powerful punch.”

 

“I’m just lucky that he likes me,” Tony replies.

 

Sif raises an eyebrow. “Does anyone _not_ like you?”

 

Tony laughs delightedly. “Too many to count, but I maintain they’re just jealous.”

 

“I would believe it,” Thor says.

 

Tony gives him a startled look, and then his expression turns knowing and sly. “I knew you’d warm up to me eventually,” he replies, referencing their first run-in.

 

“I believe that even Captain Rogers has warmed up, as you say,” Thor replies, and is surprised when Tony’s expression darkens, and he takes a long drink of ale. “Did I say something amiss? Are you and Steve quarreling?”

 

“No, not fighting,” Tony replies tightly. “We’re fine.”

 

Thor opens his mouth to ask another question, but Sif cuts him off with a subtle shake of her head.

 

Thor doesn’t know what has distressed his friend so much, but he would like to help. “Perhaps Fandral should tell the story of the day he managed to break two hearts in quick succession,” Thor suggests. “And how they paid him back.”

 

“That doesn’t put me in the best light!” Fandral protests. “Why not tell the story of our glorious battle against the bilgesnipe which left you covered in foul muck?”

 

Thor waves a hand. “I doubt Tony wants to hear about that.”

 

Tony smiles, and some of the unhappiness has left his eyes. “Actually, I really would.”

 

Fandral launches into the story, demonstrating why he is one of their best storytellers, although he has the tendency to greatly embellish the truth, and not always in Thor’s favor. But Tony is soon laughing again, and Thor doesn’t mind being the butt of the joke when it’s in the service of a friend.

 

They all rise when Odin and Frigga take their leave soon after Fandral has finished his tale, and Thor says, “Come. Let us move to a more comfortable location.”

 

He has ale in his quarters, too, and they are all merry and flushed with drink, good food, and good company, continuing to tell stories of battles past. Tony recounts his version of the battle against the Chitauri, and Thor notices that he glosses over his near-death.

 

Volstagg is the first to go to bed after a giant yawn, and Hogun and Fandral also depart soon after.

 

Tony looks at Sif, and then Thor, and says, “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

 

“Oh, many things,” Sif replies with a warm smile, moving to sit next to Tony. “I could give you a demonstration if you like.”

 

“I would like,” Tony says, setting his drink aside.

 

Sif leans in, placing one hand lightly along Tony’s jaw, and leaning in slowly, giving Tony plenty of time to pull back. Tony meets her halfway, however, and to Thor’s eye appears to be both practiced and enthusiastic.

 

When they break their kiss, Sif’s lips curve up in a sultry smile. “You’re good at that.”

 

“Lots of practice,” Tony replies smugly.

 

“Will you join us, or do you wish to watch?” Sif asks, looking at Thor.

 

Thor shrugs. “I believe that is up to Tony. I can leave if you would be more comfortable.”

 

Tony gives him a shrewd look, and Thor wonders just how much alcohol he would have to drink to have his wits dulled. “No,” he replies after a long pause. “No, you should stay.”

 

“And my participation?” Thor asks.

 

Something dark crosses Tony’s face, and then he forces a smile. “Purely voluntary.”

 

“Then I am happy to volunteer,” Thor murmurs, and sits down on the other side of Tony. “If you are willing.”

 

Tony smiles, bright and sharp. “I’m willing.”

 

Thor kisses him, cupping the back of Tony’s head, deepening the kiss when Tony responds enthusiastically. He can hear Sif hum happily, clearly appreciating the sight.

 

Tony appears slightly dazed when Thor pulls back. “You’ve had practice, too.”

 

“I am older than I look,” Thor replies warmly. “But I think that you may be wearing too many clothes.”

 

“I concur,” Sif says. “Let me help you with that.”

 

“You too,” Tony replies, sounding a little hoarse.

 

Thor stands. “Of course.”

 

He divests himself of his armor easily, used to taking it off and putting it on, and pulls the undershirt off over his head.

 

Tony watches, his gaze appreciative, and Sif begins to remove Tony’s clothing as Thor pulls down his pants.

 

“Now, that is quite the sight,” Sif murmurs behind Tony. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

 

“It is,” Tony agrees readily. “And you?”

 

Sif stands gracefully. “If you insist.”

 

She and Thor have been the occasional bedfellows for a very long time, perhaps because Thor is one of the few who has never underestimated her.  But he and Sif have not shared a bed since Thor parted ways with Jane. He had not wanted to use Sif for his own comfort, and had not felt ready to resume their agreement until now.

 

But tonight is not about Thor’s comfort, but Tony’s.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony is tempted to pinch himself, just to make sure this isn’t all a dream. First, to be on Asgard, surrounded by technology of which he has no understanding—yet. And now, to have two alien gods approach him willingly.

 

He might have been self-conscious about the scar on his chest after Sif removes his shirt, left after the removal of the arc reactor, but Thor places a warm hand in the center of his chest.

 

“Is this where it was?” Thor asks.

 

Tony nods. “It left a mark when I had it removed.”

 

“It is a mark of your survival,” Sif replies from behind Tony, placing her hand over Thor’s. “It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

Her hands move down his sides, finding the fastenings at the front of his trousers, which drop around Tony’s ankles “Do you have scars?” he asks breathlessly.

 

“Our healers are quite skilled,” Sif says in his ear. “But would you want to erase the marks from your skin?”

 

“No,” Tony admits, and steps out of his pants to face Sif, who is now completely naked, her skin golden in the firelight, lithe and well-muscled and looking very much like a goddess. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Sif smiles. “As are you.”

 

Tony finds the compliment hard to take; he’s aware of his attractiveness, but to have these two people staring at him with unchecked desire stirs something within him that he doesn’t understand. So, for once, he doesn’t run his mouth. He reaches for Sif, running his hands up her sides, palming her breasts.

 

Thor steps up behind Tony, and Tony suddenly feels very small. Thor’s hands land on Tony’s hips, and Tony feels Thor grow hard.

 

And then Tony is awash in sensations as Thor’s lips move down the back of his neck and along his spine, and his hands find Tony’s ass. Sif palms Tony’s erection, and Tony moans.

 

“I think we should find a bed, Thor,” Sif says quietly. “It will be better.”

 

“I agree,” Thor rumbles.

 

The three of them stumble to what can only be Thor’s bed, and they never stop touching him, light and seductive, and hard and rough in turn.

 

Their strength is a turn on, and when Thor pushes Tony onto the bed, Tony goes willingly

 

Sif straddles Tony’s waist, and Tony thinks he should probably say something about contraceptives, but he doesn’t want to interrupt the moment, and he suspects they don’t have anything handy.

 

She rides him hard, and then Thor rumbles, “I am feeling rather left out.”

 

“So do something about it,” Sif says with a smug smile.

 

“Happy to,” Thor replies, and while Tony’s not quite sure what move he uses, Thor has them both turned, so that Tony’s on top and Sif is underneath him. “Are you willing, Tony?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Tony says, pretty sure he’s up for anything right now.

 

“You aren’t moving,” Sif complains.

 

“Let me do the work,” Thor insists, and blankets Tony’s body, one arm around Tony’s waist.

 

Tony’s had threesomes—and moresomes—before, but this is something different. Both Sif and Thor are stronger than he is, and he finally relaxes, and lets them set the rhythm. Thor’s cock slides against his ass, and Sif rolls her hips, and Tony is coming much faster than he’d intended.

 

He’s been half-holding himself up as he hovers over Sif, but his arms are shaking from the exertion, and he’s limp with the force of his orgasm. Thor rolls away, taking Tony with him, and then Thor moves back to Sif. Tony can only watch as Thor fucks Sif, and she rolls them so that she’s on top, taking her pleasure.

 

The truth is, Tony enjoys watching as much as he’d enjoyed being sandwiched between them.

 

When both of them have come, Thor lies down between Sif and Tony. “Will you stay?” Thor asks.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Tony replies, his eyes already beginning to slide shut.

 

Sif’s response is unintelligible, because Tony is already asleep.

 

When he wakes the next morning, Tony realizes that he had slept without dreaming for the first night in too long, and he’s alone.

 

His clothes are in a neat pile next to the bed, and Tony drags them on before wandering out. He finds Thor waiting for him, although he isn’t wearing the entirety of his armor. “How are you feeling?” Thor asks with a warm smile.

 

“Good,” Tony replies. “You?”

 

“I’m well,” Thor says.

 

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly was that?” Tony asks, feeling a little uncertain as to what Thor expects or wants.

 

Thor shrugs. “We are friends, are we not?”

 

Tony doesn’t have many friends—up until recently, he could have counted them on one hand—but he likes Thor, and last night had been exactly what he needed. “We are,” he agrees.

 

“And as my friend, I do not mind sharing my bed as often or as little as you would like.”

 

Tony hasn’t had no-strings-attached sex since before he’d been with Pepper—before Afghanistan—and he’s not sure he’ll ever be as indiscriminate as he once was. After getting the arc reactor, Tony had found he needed a certain degree of trust before sleeping with someone, and he hasn’t lost that habit.

 

Thor wants nothing from Tony but what Tony wants to give, and he’s hot and good in the sack besides.

 

“I’m happy to share on occasion,” Tony replies. “I don’t suppose I could get breakfast.”

 

“But of course!” Thor replies. “My apologies, but I do not have coffee.”

 

Tony winces. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to live without it for a while.”

 

Breakfast is just as plentiful as dinner the night before had been, and then Thor takes him on a tour. Asgard is just as gorgeous as his initial impression had led him to believe, and it’s a mixture of high-tech and low.

 

And the high-tech aspects are things Tony has never seen, and look more like magic.

 

Not that Tony believes in magic.

 

“I have to admit I don’t know how you leave this place,” Tony says.

 

Thor smiles. “Earth has its charms—including coffee. And Pop-Tarts.”

 

Tony laughs. “I’ll give you coffee. I’ve never developed the taste for Pop-Tarts.”

 

They walk awhile longer, with Thor pointing out some interesting sights. “Will you tell me what happened that has you troubled?”

 

Tony looks away, staring at the tower above him. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

 

“Very well,” Thor agrees.

 

“Thanks,” Tony says, grateful to put it out of his mind for a while. “Now, tell me who’s in charge of this bridge building project.”

 

~~~~~

 

A month later, Thor joins Tony on the nearly reconstructed bridge, watching as the last pieces are put into place, moving out in slow increments. “You have done good work here,” Thor says.

 

Tony shrugs, but he has a smile on his face. “It’s been a real pleasure, Thor.”

 

Thor claps him on the shoulder. “The pleasure has been all mine, my friend.”

 

Tony smirks at him. “You know, I’ve heard that before.”

 

Thor laughs. “I’m sure you have.”

 

“I’m still not sure I understand everything,” Tony admits. “But I know more now than I did before, and I probably learned more over the last month than I have in the past twenty years combined.”

 

“I am happy to help you expand your knowledge,” Thor replies. “Perhaps next time you visit, Dr. Banner will join you.”

 

“Maybe so,” Tony agrees, and Thor is pleased to see that there are no shadows lingering in Tony’s eyes. “He’d love it.”

 

“You two are close,” Thor observes.

 

Tony doesn’t reply immediately, but eventually says, “We are.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Tony looks at him sharply. “What does that mean?”

 

“It means that it is, perhaps, not so simple as friendship,” Thor replies, watching Tony closely.

 

He’s learned to read Tony well over the last month, and he knows that what others see is not necessarily indicative of what is happening under the surface.

 

“No, perhaps not so simple, but it’s what I want for right now,” Tony says. “I don’t think I’m ready for much else.”

 

Thor inclines his head, taking the hint. “Of course. You don’t mind if I return with you?”

 

Tony looks startled. “Hell, no. It will be good to have you there.”

 

They have not shared a bed as often as Thor had anticipated they might because Tony had often been too intent on learning all he could to take a break. What time they had spent together had been pleasant, however, and Thor has nothing but fond memories.

 

But he is also wise enough to know that what time they have together is limited to Asgard, and Tony’s next words are indicative of that. “Thank you for this. I needed the break.”

 

“And if you ever need such a break again, you will be welcome here,” Thor assures him.

 

There’s a shout from those assembled as the last pieces of the Bifrost Bridge slot into place, and Tony grins triumphantly. Thor shares his jubilation, although he wishes it had come sooner, before time and distance had separated him from Jane.

 

Still, the repair of the bridge means that he no longer has to depend upon the tesseract or his father’s power to see his friends. Thor is grateful for small favors.

 

“So, how does this work?” Tony asks. “Do we just walk across?”

 

“Heimdall controls the bridge,” Thor replies. “And he serves my father, but the Allfather has already given his permission for us to return to Midgard.”

 

Tony rubs his hands together in a gesture Thor has come to know well. “All right. No offense, because it’s been great, but I could kill for a cup of coffee right about now.”

 

Thor smiles. “I would like one as well.”

 

“So, can we go?” Tony asks.

 

Thor nods. “If you’re ready.”

 

“Actually, I think I’d like to say goodbye to Lady Sif,” Tony says after a moment. “And I need to get my suit.”

 

“Of course,” Thor agrees. “We can leave tonight, after we eat.”

 

They have a private dinner in Thor’s rooms, and Sif joins them. “Are you sure you can’t stay the night?” Sif asks as they finish up.

 

“I’d like to, but I really have to get back,” Tony replies. “It’s been a little over a month. There are people who will be wondering where I am. I left rather abruptly.”

 

“I will miss you,” Sif replies sincerely. “I’m sorry you have to leave at all.”

 

“So am I,” Tony admits. “I really wish I could be in two places at once.”

 

Sif leans in, pressing her lips to Tony’s, and Thor watches, as he has several times before, and it’s just as much of a pleasure now as it has been in the past, although there’s a bittersweet note now.

 

Thor thinks that this time has been as good for him as it has been for Tony. He and Sif have reached an agreement, and a state of comfort they hadn’t had since before Jane.

 

Tony has been the bridge between them, as Thor had hoped.

 

“You are coming back,” Sif says, turning to Thor.

 

“After a time,” Thor agrees. “You could accompany us.”

 

Sif shakes her head. “What would I do on Midgard?”

 

“There are battles to fight there, too,” Tony says.

 

Sif smiles gently. “Perhaps, but they are not _my_ battles.”

 

She catches Thor’s eye, and Thor nods, assenting to the silent question.

 

He will return to Asgard, because this is his home, as much as he likes Earth.

 

“Then I hope to see you again soon,” Tony says.

 

“Stay safe,” Sif replies, glancing at Thor. “You too.”

 

Thor nods. “I will return soon.”

 

“Good.” Sif rises, but leans down to kiss Thor deeply. “I look forward to it.”

 

The suit enfolds Tony, and they head for the bridge, Tony’s footsteps clanking loudly. “I think Sif is interested,” Tony teases.

 

“We are old friends,” Thor says. “And occasional bed partners.”

 

“Take it from me, Thor,” Tony responds. “If she likes you that much, take the chance and enjoy her company. Mortals come and go, but Sif is something special.”

 

Thor hitches a shoulder. “Perhaps. But right now, I’m needed back on Midgard.”

 

“And you’re welcome there, too,” Tony replies.

 

Heimdall is waiting for them when they arrive at the Bifrost Bridge. “I see you wish to return home, Tony Stark,” he says.

 

Tony inclines his head. “That would be great, thanks.”

 

“And you’re returning with him,” Heimdall states, turning his golden eyes on Thor.

 

“I am,” Thor replies. “This is what I came back here for.”

 

“Then I will be watching for the moment to return you home,” Heimdall replies. “Be well.”

 

Thor nods. “Of course.”

 

“Give me a minute or two after I cross,” Tony says. “I’ll need to get the suit off.”

 

Heimdall activates the bridge, and Thor waves Tony through first, giving him a few minutes before following on his heels.

 

This time, Thor ends up exactly where he’d planned, on the landing pad of Stark Tower. Tony is already out of the suit, and talking to Dr. Banner. Thor immediately can see the closeness between them, and the potential. He resolves not to make trouble.

 

Although if Tony approaches _him_ , it will be a different story.

 

“Seriously, I was starting to get worried,” Banner is saying. “And I can’t believe what you’re wearing. What are you _wearing_?”

 

Tony hasn’t taken the time to change out of the clothes Thor had provided, and he says, “Thor provided it. I didn’t have time to pack.”

 

A complicated expression crosses Banner’s face, and he says, “It suits you. Weirdly.”

 

“I’ll take it,” Tony says.

 

Banner catches sight of Thor, and he forces a smile. “Hey, Thor. Good to see you again.”

 

Thor knows how to ease his way, or he’s learned to do so. “You, too, Dr. Banner. I’m sorry you couldn’t join us.”

 

“So am I,” Banner replies with a sincere smile. “Next time, maybe.”

 

“We would be happy to have your presence on Asgard,” Thor replies. “I’m sure Tony would like to have you there as well.”

 

Banner glances between them, and there’s another, unnamed emotion that crosses his face. “Yeah, that would be great. Tony, I’ll see you later.”

 

Tony watches Bruce leave, and Thor can’t quite read his expression either. “You don’t mind if I stay here tonight,” Thor says.

 

Tony shakes himself. “No, of course not. Make yourself at home. It’s the least I can do. Let me show you to your room.”

 

Thor follows Tony back to the elevator, and eventually to a well-appointed guest room. “Seriously, stay as long as you like,” Tony says quietly. “Let me know if you need anything. And if you need me, just ask Jarvis. He’ll know where to find me.”

 

Thor nods. “Of course.”

 

He’s a little lonely when Tony leaves, since he’s been surrounded by people almost constantly over the last months, but he knows it will pass. He is, at least, among friends here.

 

That has to count for something.


	4. Clint

Clint has been in and out of the Tower a lot over the last couple of months, taking advantage of Tony’s offer to stay there whenever he’s in town. He still keeps his own place, of course, a little apartment up in Bed-Stuy, but when he’s gone a lot, he likes staying at the Tower because he never has to clean out the fridge, and Tony keeps his favorite beer on hand.

 

Plus, there’s never a dull moment with his teammates around, and the security at the Tower allows him to relax a little more than he would at his apartment. He needs the space to get his head straight after the last mission in Pakistan.

 

Clint is a little surprised to find Thor in the common room chowing down on Pop-Tarts the morning after Clint gets back from his mission, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, rather than his usual armor.

 

“Hey, Thor,” Clint says. “I didn’t realize you were back.”

 

Thor shrugs. “I thought I might stay here for a time. There is much that I haven’t seen.”

 

“Great,” Clint replies. “You want a tour guide, just let me know. I’d be happy to show you around—unless you have other plans.”

 

Thor shakes his head. “No plans. I believe Tony is catching up on work.”

 

Clint vaguely recalls that he hadn’t seen Tony the last time he was in town. “You and Tony, huh?”

 

Thor hitches a shoulder. “We had a pleasant time together on Asgard.”

 

Clint can’t resist the urge to get some dirt on Tony. “So, are the rumors true?”

 

“What rumors would those be?” Thor asks.

 

“That he’s good in the sack,” Clint replies. “He’s had plenty of practice, or so they say.”

 

Thor smiles. “We had a _very_ good time on Asgard.”

 

Clint can’t get any more out of Thor, but his curiosity is piqued. He’d heard that Tony and Pepper had broken things off, and he’d figured it was only a matter of time before Tony started sleeping around. Clint hadn’t thought Tony would start with Thor, though.

 

Clint’s not counting Steve, since that had been under duress.

 

“So, what do you say to a tour of New York?” Clint asks finally when he realizes Thor isn’t going to tell him anything else. He thinks a day out with Thor, playing tourist, might give him the distance he needs from the last mission.

 

“Clusterfuck” doesn’t even _begin_ to describe it.

 

“I would be happy to join you,” Thor agrees readily. “I saw pieces of the city from above when I was here last, but I’d like the chance to see more up close.”

 

“No problem,” Clint agrees. “There are a few places I think you’ll love.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tony wraps his hands around his coffee mug and inhales the scent. The alcohol in Asgard had been great, but the lack of coffee had been slightly problematic.

 

He _can_ live without it, but he’d rather not.

 

“How did the project with Selvig turn out?” Tony asks Bruce.

 

Bruce shrugs, pulling off his glasses and fiddling with them. “Well enough. Selvig has been working on a way to protect people from Loki’s magic, or whatever it is. It’s a little hard to test without having Loki around, but we made progress.”

 

Tony snorts. “I’d rather avoid Loki if at all possible.”

 

“The important thing is that we figured out a way to neutralize the Phase 2 weaponry SHIELD developed,” Bruce says, tucking his glasses in a pocket and rolling up his sleeves.

 

Tony’s attention is caught by Bruce’s strong forearms, and the flex of muscle that’s slowly revealed.

 

But then, Tony’s always liked Bruce’s hands.

 

Bruce gives him a sharp look. “You okay?”

 

Tony nods. “Sure. Jet lag, or whatever it’s called when you move between realms.”

 

“Must have been pretty cool,” Bruce replies, sounding a little wistful.

 

“It was,” Tony agrees. “We have a standing invitation to go back, you know. Both of us.”

 

Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that would be great. What have you got going on today?”

 

“Catching up on all the stuff that came up when I was gone,” Tony replies with a grimace. “It’s probably a good thing that Pepper and I still aren’t talking face-to-face, because the email she sent makes it pretty clear that she’s _not_ happy.”

 

Bruce just raises an eyebrow. “You _did_ leave on very short notice. She called me, you know.”

 

“What did she want?” Tony asks.

 

“She wanted to know where you were, and if I knew anything about you leaving so suddenly,” Bruce replies. “And she wanted to know if I could reach you, and if I could take care of a few things in your absence.”

 

“What kind of things? And how often do you guys talk?” Tony feels a little strange about that idea.

 

“Just a few patent reviews,” Bruce replies. “Things that you would normally have done as CTO that had a deadline. And Pepper and I talk about once a week.”

 

Tony frowns. “So you can report back on me?”

 

“She still cares about you,” Bruce says mildly. “And I don’t tell her anything other than you’re fine.”

 

“But you filled in for me while I was gone,” Tony says flatly.

 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Bruce says, some heat entering his voice. “And if you’d left a few more instructions, someone else could have made those decisions.”

 

“There’s no one else I trust more,” Tony replies, realizing that he means it even as the words leave his mouth. “I would have left you in charge anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to leave word. Thor wanted to get going immediately.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I was happy to help, and I knew Thor would look after you.”

 

“Next time we’re needed off-planet, I’ll make sure there are people who can do both our jobs,” Tony promises. “Thanks. If I haven’t said it already.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “It doesn’t need to be said. Did you get what you needed there?”

 

Tony wonders how Bruce had known, but realizes that he’s not surprised Bruce had been aware of how badly he’d needed to get away, and get some distance. “Yeah, I did.”

 

“Good.” Bruce puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder and squeezes hard. “You look better.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “What? Did I look that bad before?”

 

“You always look good,” Bruce admits. “But now you look like you’ve slept more than a few hours at a time. I’ll have to give Thor my thanks.”

 

Tony realizes how close they are and takes a step back. “Yeah.”

 

Some unnamed emotion crosses Bruce’s face, and he nods. “Right. So, see you later?”

 

“Sure, of course. We should grab dinner,” Tony replies. “Jarvis said Clint got back last night. We can all order pizza.”

 

Bruce nods, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile. “Sounds good.” He watches Tony for a moment, and then pulls out his glasses again and puts them back on. “You realize you’re in my lab, right? I mean, it’s fine if you want to stay, but—”

 

“No, I’m going,” Tony replies. “Right now, in fact.”

 

Tony heads to his own workshop, right down the hall from Bruce, and looks around. “Well, fuck,” he mutters. The moment with Bruce had been electric, and he knows how attracted he is.

 

And Tony’s not about to fuck up another relationship, not with his best friend, not when Bruce is just going to leave again when he’s sure Tony’s back on an even keel.

 

He pushes it aside, and focuses on what he has to accomplish. There are a ton of emails to sort through, most of which he deletes without reading, trusting that Bruce or Pepper would have flagged anything important. Tony adds his electronic signature to a couple of contracts and signs off on a patent. And then, because he’s thinking about it, he sends an email to Pepper, congratulating her on running his company so well.

 

Tony expects the email he gets back a few minutes later that says, “I _am_ CEO. And next time you leave the planet, _call me first_.”

 

He laughs when he sees it, because he knows just how serious she is. Next time, Tony wouldn’t put it past her to shout down Heimdall and get herself an invitation.

 

Tony has a few of his own projects that he’d put on the back burner, and that he knows he should probably work on, but instead, he starts plans for incorporating Asgardian technology in the suit.

 

Bruce sends him an email midafternoon that has the write up of the project he’d been working on with Selvig. “Your input would be appreciated, since you know more about Asgardian tech/magic than I do at this point.”

 

Tony wonders if he’s imagining the jealousy, but figures he’d feel the same way had their positions been reversed.

 

Reading through the report that Bruce sent takes the rest of the afternoon, and Tony makes notes and comments.

 

Jarvis interrupts when he’s about done, saying, “Dr. Banner wishes me to inform you that they have ordered pizza, and if you don’t wish Thor to eat it all, you should join them.”

 

Tony hits save and heads up to the Penthouse to find a stack of pizza boxes, with Thor, Bruce and Clint already chowing down. “I hope you saved some for me,” Tony says by way of a greeting.

 

“Hey, you snooze, you lose,” Clint replies with his mouth full.

 

Thor slides a pizza box in Tony’s direction. “We have not yet begun to eat this one,” he says.

 

“Thanks, Thor,” Tony replies. “You’re a real pal, unlike some people here.”

 

Bruce snorts. “I had Jarvis notify you. Maybe I shouldn’t bother next time.”

 

“No, definitely bother for pizza,” Tony says grabbing and folding a slice, “especially when it’s from Ray’s.”

 

“I prefer Lenny’s, but this isn’t bad,” Clint replies.

 

“Not bad,” Tony scoffs. “I used to get this flown out when I lived in California.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Really?”

 

“Well, if someone else was going that way,” Tony replies, thinking of Obadiah. That had actually been the last time he’d had Ray’s in Malibu, but he doesn’t feel the need to go into it. “It’s called multi-tasking.”

 

“Hard to get a good slice in California,” Clint agrees. “Couple of places I know come close, but they’re not the real deal.”

 

“Exactly,” Tony says, pleased to have found someone else who knows the value of a New York slice.

 

Then again, Thor will eat anything, and Bruce hasn’t had the luxury of being picky.

 

“How long are you here for, Clint?” Bruce asks.

 

Clint shrugs. “A few days, anyway. Sitwell told me to take a week, but we’ll see if I actually get it.”

 

“Rough mission?” Tony asks.

 

“You could say that,” Clint replies, taking a long swig of beer. “But it’s classified. A couple of days, some time on the range, and I’ll be fine. I just need to blow off some steam.”

 

Tony shrugs. “Well, if you need a wingman, let me know.”

 

Clint smirks. “I may take you up on that offer, although it would mean far too many cameras for my taste.”

 

“But free drinks, and the guarantee you’d have someone to go home with you,” Tony counters. “Besides, I can totally do incognito.”

 

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Clint replies, a challenging gleam in his eye.

 

Tony grins. “You’ll see.”

 

~~~~~

 

Clint’s intrigued by the idea of having Tony as a wingman, but he’s pretty sure that’s the very definition of _not_ laying low, which is what he’s been ordered to do. Under other circumstances, Clint might have suggested that instead of being a wingman, Tony join him in bed, but he can’t do that with Thor there.

 

Clint has no idea if they’re still sleeping together, but he doesn’t poach, not when he has to keep working with the both of them. So, he goes off on his next mission without having satisfied his curiosity as to just how good Tony Stark is in bed.

 

Clint can’t say that he thinks about it, really, not when he’s got people shooting at him, and not when he’s trying to get out of the Thai jungle with a bullet hole through his left bicep.

 

That just makes it another clusterfuck of a mission, and Clint has to admit that he’s missing the other Avengers right about now. He’s probably not any less likely to get shot when he’s with them, but at least there would be someone around to watch his back.

 

The thing is, Clint likes working alone, but he’s gotten used to working with a team, and he kind of misses them.

 

But it looks like he’s going to have plenty of time to hang out with them, since he’s not going to be using his bow for at least a couple of weeks.

 

He finds cover and hides, sweating in the heat of the day, feeling it rolling down his face and dripping down his spine.

 

Clint wants a shower, a shave, and something decent to eat.

 

And stitches. He probably needs stitches.

 

His earpiece had fallen out when Clint hit the ground after being shot out of a tree, and so he’s got no choice but to get himself to a place where he can call for an extraction. SHIELD will know something has gone wrong by now, but they might not risk sending a team to the jungle.

 

After all, Clint isn’t here in an official capacity.

 

Clint hears a sound that is both familiar and unexpected, and he curls up just in case he’s imagining things.

 

He’s pretty sure infection has already set in, so it’s possible that he’s delusional and just imagining that he hears the Iron Man suit.

 

“Barton?” comes a familiar voice. “I hear you might need a ride.”

 

Clint hesitates, and then sticks his head out from under cover. “Stark?”

 

“None other,” Tony says cheerfully. “Need a hand?”

 

“Almost literally,” Clint replies as he emerges, knowing that he’s holding his left arm awkwardly.

 

“Nice field dressing,” Tony says. “Too bad Bruce isn’t here. He’d probably tell you what you’d done wrong.”

 

“No, he’d probably fix it without saying anything,” Clint says. “Because Bruce is great like that.”

 

Tony flips up the faceplate. “Yeah, true. Bruce _is_ pretty great like that. He generally patches me up without comment anyway. So, you want to blow this joint?”

 

“Definitely,” Clint says with relief. He’s pretty sure he’s dehydrated and feverish, and he’s more grateful to see Tony than he wants to admit.

 

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t offer a more comfortable ride, but I can at least get you to where you can get medical attention,” Tony replies.

 

“Great,” Clint says with real relief, putting his arms around Tony’s neck, ignoring how much it makes him feel like a blushing bride.

 

He feels the adrenalin surge again as Tony rockets up, through the jungle canopy, and he holds on tight. Clint likes death-defying stunts—they make him feel alive—but this is a little much even for him. He knows Tony won’t drop him, but the possibility feels very real.

 

That being said, he’s almost disappointed when they reach the nearest safe house, but less disappointed when Tony sticks around. “I’ve already got a helicopter coming in,” Tony tells him. “I figure you can recuperate at the Tower, if you’re okay with that.”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Clint says, a little surprised to see Tony’s suit unzip, and Tony step out.

 

“Like I said, the chopper is still coming,” Tony says. “Here’s hoping that my first aid lessons have done some good.”

 

“Who was giving you lessons?” Clint asks, leaning back against the wall. The safe house doesn’t have much in the way of furniture, just a thin pallet on the floor, and a low futon. Then again, it’s only one rather sparse room, so that makes sense.

 

“Bruce, but I had Jarvis fill me in on the way over here,” Tony replies. “I figured it might be necessary.”

 

When Clint gives him a disbelieving look, Tony shrugs. “I heard you went off the radar, and I was worried for my teammate. I have alerts set up for all of you, if it makes you feel any better.”

 

“Maybe it does,” Clint says, shrugging out of his field vest and undershirt. “Thanks for coming for me.”

 

“Hey, I’m always going to look out for you guys,” Tony says, cleaning the wound in Clint’s arm. “Good news for you, the bullet went straight through, and you’ll probably survive.”

 

Clint grunts as Tony injects him once, and then twice. “Do I want to know what that was?”

 

“Since it was in the first aid kit, I think you’ll probably survive,” Tony replies. “But it’s penicillin and some kind of painkiller.”

 

“You didn’t ask if I was allergic?” Clint asks, trying to sound offended, although he knows he doesn’t quite manage it. He would have stopped Tony if he’d been worried about that.

 

“Figured you would have said something if you were,” Tony replies with a ready grin, echoing Clint’s thoughts. “Are you?”

 

“No,” Clint admits.

 

Tony nods. “All right, then, Let’s get you fixed up until the cavalry arrives.”

 

With the morphine in his system, Clint is feeling no pain, and he lets Tony finish bandaging him before making his move. Tony freezes for a moment when Clint kisses him, but then relaxes all of a sudden, one hand cradling the back of Clint’s head as he deepens the kiss.

 

“What the hell brought that on?” Tony asks when he breaks it off a moment later. “Not that I’m complaining.”

 

“Didn’t think you’d have a problem with it,” Clint replies. “Unless you’re still with Thor.”

 

“I was never _with_ Thor,” Tony says quietly. “I’m not _with_ anybody. But I am up for some fun.”

 

“Good,” Clint replies, wanting to shed the memories of the last couple of missions, and of SHIELD not being there when he needed them.

 

Tony had been there, and that’s enough for Clint right now. He just wants a good, hard fuck, and Tony’s available, and had just given him a ride.

 

Clint means to give Tony a ride.

 

“You got supplies?” Tony asks.

 

Clint grins. “What? You don’t?”

 

“Oddly enough, I don’t exactly bring condoms and lube with me in the suit,” Tony replies. “And I wasn’t expecting to get lucky.”

 

“Guess today is your lucky day, then,” Clint says, rooting around in his tac vest.

 

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

 

“Hey, you never know when you need to be prepared,” Clint replies. “You know how many close encounters I’ve had to pass on for want of sufficient supplies?”

 

“Do I want to know?” Tony asks.

 

Clint shrugs. “More than you think, which is why I am always prepared.”

 

“How do you want to do this?” Tony asks.

 

Clint really wants to be fucked, but this isn’t exactly the right time or place. “How much time do we have?”

 

“An hour at the most,” Tony replies. “No one else knows we’re here. There are a few of these places I keep.” At Clint’s questioning look, Tony replies, “I’m a paranoid bastard, and there are a lot of reasons to maintain a safehouse.”

 

“You don’t trust SHIELD,” Clint says.

 

Tony shrugs. “I don’t trust a lot of people, and being BFFs with a guy the Army chased for years has just made me that much more paranoid.”

 

Clint cocks an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying this is all for Dr. Banner?”

 

“I’m saying I’m not taking chances with anybody I give a shit about,” Tony says. “I have a trace on all of you, remember?”

 

Clint pushes that aside, and focuses on the moment, pulling Tony’s head down for a hard, filthy kiss with just the amount of teeth.

 

“So, what do you want?” Tony asks as he nips at Clint’s jaw.

 

“I really want you to fuck me,” Clint says.

 

Tony gives him a hard look, and then says, “Yeah, okay. We can do that. We can totally do that. Just—give me a second.”

 

He calls out, “Jarvis, I need to know if there’s anybody approaching, as soon as you know about it.”

 

“Okay, that’s a little weird,” Clint objects.

 

Tony smirks. “Trust me, Jarvis will give us plenty of warning. I think you’d prefer that to getting caught with your pants down.”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Clint replies.

 

“Call me crazy, but I’d rather both of us get off,” Tony replies. “Jarvis will keep watch so we don’t have to worry about dividing our attention.”

 

He kisses Clint again, and unbuttons Clint’s pants with one deft hand and starts working them down Clint’s hips. Clint pulls back long enough to help him, and then he’s naked. He feels a little weird for about two seconds, which is just enough time for Tony to pull his t-shirt off and start kissing Clint again.

 

Tony pulls back long enough to coat a finger with lube, and then moves in again, this time nipping at Clint’s neck. It’s just this side of rough, and almost perfect, so Clint says, “I’m not going to break.”

 

Tony’s response is to push a finger inside. “Okay?”

 

“Seriously, I’m not going to break,” Clint grits out.

 

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me if I want to be sure my partner is enjoying himself.”

 

“I’ll let you know if you’re doing something wrong,” Clint says, the words coming out a little more harshly than he’d intended.

 

Tony pauses, and then says, “All right. Stop me if you need to.”

 

“I’m not going to stop you,” Clint replies.

 

Tony gives him a challenging look. “And maybe that’s why I’m going slow,” he says, but he slicks up a second finger.

 

Clint feels the burn and slight sting, but Tony moves carefully enough that the burn never becomes truly painful. It’s pleasant, in its own way, diverting his attention from the last couple of shit missions, and the lingering pain in his arm and various bruises.

 

The burn gives way to pleasure as Tony finds his prostate, and Clint lets out a breath. “Yeah, right there.”

 

Tony twists his fingers roughly, and Clint arches his back. “Yeah,” Clint says, figuring that Tony might need some encouragement.

 

Tony opens him up with ruthless fingers, and it’s exactly what Clint needs. After Tony finishes the prep, he withdraws to push down his pants and roll on a condom. 

 

The burn is different as Tony pushes inside, the stretch making Clint catch his breath, and he’s in the moment, he’s just _here_.

 

“Fuck me,” Clint demands. “Harder.”

 

Tony doesn’t respond, except to clutch Clint’s hips and slams into him harder. Tony had been careful enough at the beginning that the pain is negligible now.

 

One of Tony’s hands finds Clint’s dick, and he begins to roughly jerk him off, and Clint feels his orgasm slam into him quickly, taking his breath away.

 

Tony finishes up in fairly short order, and flops down next to Clint on the thin pallet.

 

“Thanks,” Clint says. “That was great.”

 

“In this case, the rumors don’t lie,” Tony replies.

 

“No, they don’t,” Clint agrees. “I heard through the grapevine that you were good.”

 

Tony smirks at him. “I’m better than good.”

 

“Okay, so you’re a quality fuck,” Clint agrees easily.

 

A strange expression crosses Tony’s face, and he says, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

 

Clint figures this might be one of those times when he’s said something a little insensitive; Natasha would probably smack him. “And a good friend.”

 

“Thanks.” Tony sits up. “Come on. There’s not much time before we’ve got company.”

 

“Hey,” Clint says, suddenly wanting to wipe that blank expression off Tony’s face. “Seriously, thanks for coming to get me. It’s good to know you’ve got my back.”

 

The smile Tony offers is a little more genuine. “Any time, Barton.”

 

And Clint hopes he hadn’t screwed things up too badly.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony doesn’t mind fucking Clint, but it’s really just an enjoyable interlude.  He remembers when that’s all sex pretty much ever was, when he didn’t do relationships.

 

He’d changed his ways after Afghanistan, when he hadn’t trusted anyone with the arc reactor, when he hadn’t known how to tell a stranger that he had a hole in his chest, and a piece of machinery filling it.

 

The truth is that Tony hasn’t been able to sleep with anybody he doesn’t trust implicitly since then, and breaking up with Pepper hasn’t changed that. The real difference is that there are more people who qualify as friends—but he’s not sure he believes that any of them will actually stick around.

 

And Tony hadn’t ever thought he’d be in a place where he wanted a relationship again and not just a quick fuck, but that’s _exactly_ what he wants.

 

Honestly, Tony wants a relationship with _Bruce_ , but as much as he likes Bruce, and as much as Tony wants him to stick around, he can’t ask Bruce to stay.

 

Because Tony needs Bruce to _want_ to stay, and so he can’t ask, because he won’t push Bruce to do anything he doesn’t want to do, and he doesn’t want to risk fucking up their relationship.

 

He tells himself that what they’ve got is enough, and Tony can be content with what he has—Bruce’s friendship, and the occasional encounter with a friend, with no strings attached.

 

If he really wants sex, Thor would be happy to oblige as long as he’s on Earth.

 

When the chopper Tony called arrives to pick Clint up, Tony declines the ride in favor of flying back under his own power. Clint’s going to be fine, and Tony had done his part.

 

The flight gives Tony time to get some distance. He’s good at compartmentalizing, and he’ll put this aside and not think about it the same way he’s managed to not think about a lot of things over the last few years. By the time he lands on the roof of Stark Tower, he feels as though he can manage his emotions, and the difference between what he wants and what he can have.

 

He finds Bruce in his lab, working with his sleeves rolled up and his glasses on. Tony has noticed that Bruce has been wearing his glasses a lot more frequently recently.

 

“Hey,” Tony says.

 

“How’s Clint?” Bruce asks, not looking up immediately. “Jarvis said you were on a rescue mission.”

 

Tony shrugs. “Bullet through his upper arm. He’ll be out of commission, and probably will be recovering here, but he’ll survive.”

 

“Good,” Bruce replies mildly. “I like Clint. You’re a good friend.”

 

“I have Jarvis keeping tabs on all of you,” Tony replies, uncertain as to why he feels the need to defend that decision. “Nothing intrusive, just wanting to be sure nothing happens to you.”

 

“To me? Or to the team in general?” Bruce asks, glancing up to meet Tony’s eyes.

 

“To the team,” Tony admits. “But if something happened to you, I’d turn the fucking world upside down.”

 

Bruce smiles. “Same here.”

 

There’s a charged moment, and part of Tony wants to close the space between them and put his mouth on Bruce’s, and damn the consequences.

 

But Tony’s not going to fuck up another relationship if he can help it, so he grins and says, “Tell me what you’re working on.”

 

“It’s stupid,” Bruce says.

 

“I doubt that,” Tony replies. “What is it?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “It’s just something I work on when I’m distracted and can’t focus on real work.”

 

Tony feels like it’s safe enough to cross the room, and he pokes Bruce in the side. “Well?”

 

“It’s a force field,” Bruce admits. “A personal one. I figured it might come in handy if something happens with the Other Guy, especially if I’m going to stick around here.”

 

“You planning on staying?” Tony asks, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

 

Bruce hesitates. “I had thought about it. Unless you don’t want me here.”

 

“No, I do,” Tony replies immediately, wanting to erase the uncertainty from Bruce’s voice. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

 

He doesn’t ask how long, and he knows this removes one of his concerns about starting something up with Bruce. Maybe Bruce will leave in a month or two, and maybe he’ll stay, but things will inevitably end badly, and Tony will lose his best friend.

 

Again. He doesn’t want to risk it.

 

Bruce smiles. “Hard to leave, really. You want to give me a hand? I’m having a little trouble with figuring out how to keep the power steady.”

 

Tony frowns. “No, you’re not.”

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “Or maybe I just like working with you.”

 

Tony grins. “Say no more. If you need my genius, I’m happy to lend it to you.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do science.”

 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Tony replies.

 

Bruce snorts, but he says, “Sure, let’s do this.”

 

And Tony decides that he’ll be content with what he has.


	5. Natasha

When Natasha spots Clint in the Tower, one day after Tony had rescued him from the jungle, she _knows_ he’s had sex. Most people would have no idea, not unless they knew Clint as well as she does, and know his gait and how he moves.

 

More to the point, Natasha can tell when Clint’s been well and truly fucked, and he has been. It doesn’t take a genius—or a spy—to figure out who had done it.

 

“You got laid,” Natasha says with a raised eyebrow.

 

They’re in the main kitchen where Clint is pouring a bowl of cereal. He grabs a handful and munches it loudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“You’re moving like you got fucked,” Natasha says bluntly, knowing that sometimes blunt works better with Clint.

 

She’s rewarded by the faint blush that would be invisible to anybody but her. “You know that’s none of your business, right?” he asks.

 

“You say that like you believe it,” Natasha replies. “And I’m a spy. I live here, as do you, and I like to know what personal landmines to avoid.”

 

Clint shrugs. “It wasn’t serious, but I have to say, Tony is a quality fuck. If you get a chance, you should take him for a ride.”

 

Since she’s facing the doorway, Natasha spots Bruce stopping cold in the entrance when Clint says that, and the expression on Bruce’s face tells Natasha everything she needs to know.

 

Bruce backs away slowly, and Natasha doesn’t let on that she saw him.

 

When she’s sure that Bruce is out of earshot, Natasha smacks Clint on his good arm. “Do you want to start trouble?”

 

“What?” Clint asks. “What are you talking about?”

 

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You don’t know.”

 

“No, I don’t know,” Clint replies, exasperated. “What are you talking about?”

 

Natasha realizes that Clint hasn’t been around enough to know what’s going on, and he’s an assassin besides. He isn’t always the best at reading between the lines. “Bruce is interested in Tony,” she says with the exaggerated patience reserved for the very young or the very stupid.

 

Clint’s eyes widen. “Oh. Oh, shit. Shit. Do you think the Hulk hates me now?”

 

Natasha smiles at the thought. “I don’t know. I would suggest you stay out of the Hulk’s way for a while, though.”

 

Clint runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, good advice. You think he’s going to hold it against me?”

 

“Bruce probably won’t,” Natasha replies unhelpfully.

 

Clint gives her an impish grin. “Still, it was worth it. I’m telling you.”

 

Natasha shrugs. “Maybe I’ll give it a try if Tony doesn’t pull his head out of his ass soon.”

 

“What? You think—” Natasha watches as the pieces finally slot into place, and Clint snorts. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Tony’s just as gone on him.”

 

That’s the last piece of information Natasha really needs. “Figures.”

 

Clint shakes his head. “Well, I have to say, I wouldn’t do it any different, but I usually avoid getting between teammates.”

 

“Just don’t fuck Tony in the Tower,” Natasha advises. “Right now, Bruce can ignore it. You parade it in front of him, and he might let the Other Guy out to play, and if he does, I _will_ laugh at you.”

 

“Right before you rescue me, right?” Clint asks.

 

Natasha smirks in reply.

 

“Right?” Clint insists.

 

She shrugs. “Perhaps.”

 

“You’re a cruel woman,” Clint accuses.

 

Natasha laughs. “I never pretended not to be.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tony barrels into Bruce’s lab. “Hey, we’ve got a problem in Denver, and we’re going to need the Other Guy. You up for it?”

 

Bruce looks up from his computer screen, and there’s an expression on his face that Tony can’t quite identify because it passes so quickly into neutrality. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“You okay?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I be? I wasn’t the one who just flew halfway around the world. Twice.”

 

“Piece of cake,” Tony assures him. “Plus, it was for a good cause. Are you ready now?”

 

“Yeah, let’s move,” Bruce replies, shutting down his computer, and following Tony out of the lab.

 

Bruce doesn’t say anything, and Tony wonders if he’s done something to piss Bruce off. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it probably won’t be the last, but Tony knows he can’t fix it if he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

 

They’re in the elevator on the way up, and Tony asks, “We okay, Big Guy?”

 

Bruce glances at him. “We’re fine.”

 

“Because you seem to be pissed off.”

 

“I’m not pissed off,” Bruce says immediately.

 

“You’re not your usual chatty self,” Tony observes.

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I’m never chatty.”

 

“Maybe not, but you usually talk more than this.” Tony reaches out to touch Bruce’s arm, and Bruce takes half a step back, right into the side of the elevator. “You also usually let me touch you.”

 

“I’m just jumpy today,” Bruce says easily. “No big deal.”

 

“It’s a big deal,” Tony objects. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Not everything is about you.”

 

“I didn’t say it was about me,” Tony says. “In fact, this is pretty much about _you_. You aren’t comfortable with me touching you.”

 

“I never said that,” Bruce replies.

 

“Except that it’s true.” Tony stares at him. “So? What is it?”

 

“I told you, I’m jumpy,” Bruce replies.

 

Tony crowds him in a corner. “Yeah? Maybe we need to get you acclimated to human contact. How long has it been?”

 

He’s not expecting the hard shove that Bruce gives him, sending Tony into the other side of the elevator. “Don’t fucking touch me,” Bruce says angrily. “Don’t touch me unless you want to do something about it.”

 

Tony blinks, a little surprised at Bruce’s vehemence, and then the elevator opens into the Penthouse, and more accurately, the roof access. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Bruce says, sounding weary. “I’m sorry. That was, that was rude. I didn’t mean it.”

 

Tony’s not about to swallow that lie, but he’s not going to argue about it either. “Okay. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

 

Bruce looks away from him. “Yeah. Sure. That’s great. Thanks.”

 

Tony thinks he might have made a mistake, that he might be getting too close to Bruce, or maybe not close enough. He’s not really sure how that works.

 

Except that it’s pretty clear that Bruce isn’t up for casual touching, which is a pretty good indication of where Bruce is at—not that Tony is at all willing to start something.

 

Not right now, anyway.

 

They don’t speak as Tony gets into his suit, nor does Bruce say anything as they wait for their ride. When the Quinjet lands on the roof with just enough room to spare, Natasha joins them, with Clint trailing behind.

 

“I thought you were benched,” Tony says looking at Clint.

 

“I am,” Clint replies sourly. “I just thought I’d see you off.”

 

“You’ll be missed,” Tony says.

 

Bruce gives Tony a sharp look, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

“Good luck,” Clint says.

 

Tony is a little surprised when Natasha takes a seat next to Bruce in the back of the Quinjet, asking a question about what Bruce is working on, which leaves Tony stuck sitting next to Steve, since Thor is still on Asgard.

 

And, oh, this isn’t awkward _at all_ , given that Tony’s made sure not to be alone with Steve since getting hit with the sex pollen.

 

Tony may never forgive Bruce, or Natasha.

 

“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “You okay?”

 

Steve sounds remarkably friendly given everything that had happened between the two of them, and as much as Tony would like to rebuff him, he can’t. He feels he owes Steve a little courtesy at least.

 

“I’m good,” Tony says. “You?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Steve replies. “I haven’t seen much of you.”

 

“I was on Asgard for a while,” Tony replies. “And I’ve been pretty busy.”

 

Steve nods. “I guess we haven’t had a lot of group activities lately.”

 

“Not really, no,” Tony replies, not feeling too upset about that.

 

“Look, I just wanted to thank you,” Steve says in a low voice. “What you did—it wasn’t so bad, and it could have been.”

 

“I think we covered this already,” Tony replies quietly. “I told you not to mention it.”

 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Take the compliment, Tony.”

 

“So, have you gotten laid by anyone else lately?” Tony asks, figuring that will derail the conversation easily enough.

 

“As a matter of fact,” Steve says with a smirk.

 

Tony turns to face Steve and flips up the faceplate. “Where did you meet her? Or is it him?”

 

“She’s a waitress at a café I go to sometimes,” Steve replies. “After what happened, I finally got the guts to ask her out.”

 

Tony frowns. “After what happened?”

 

“Yeah, well, I thought it might be weird to be with someone for the first time, and then I figured that nothing could be weirder than having to have sex with the son of one of my best friends,” Steve replies with a wry smile. “So, really, you did me a favor.”

 

Tony’s gained enough distance from what happened that he could nod semi-graciously. “Happy to have been of assistance.”

 

Really, Tony doesn’t completely buy the idea, and he suspects that Steve’s trying to make him feel better, but there’s a part of him that appreciates the effort. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Steve, or to scar him for life. Whatever his feelings about Steve might be, he’s not interested in hurting him.

 

“How is Bruce?” Steve asks.

 

Tony glances up to see Bruce apparently deep in conversation with Natasha. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

 

“Are you two okay?” Steve’s voice is strangely gentle.

 

Tony shrugs. “I don’t know that either.”

 

“Is it going to be a problem today?” Steve asks. “With the Other Guy, I mean?”

 

Tony winces. “God, I hope not. That wouldn’t be pleasant.”

 

“Maybe you should stay out of his way,” Steve suggests.

 

“Yeah, maybe I should,” Tony murmurs, and wonders whether things will ever be right between him and Bruce again.

 

~~~~~

 

Natasha has some idea of how jealous Bruce is right now. There have only been a couple of times in her life when she’s wanted someone she couldn’t have, and who had chosen someone else, or something else, but she’d hated it.

 

She asks Bruce about his work because she believes it will be a distraction, and Bruce seems amenable to answering her questions. Natasha gets him into a conversation about the possible applications for electricity in personal weapons that keeps him distracted.

 

Natasha glances over at Steve and Tony a couple of times to make sure they’re not fighting, but they seem to be getting along well enough, which is a change. She wonders if that trend will hold.

 

It might be a nice change for Steve and Tony to actually get along.

 

When the Quinjet begins its descent, Bruce breaks off his explanation of how he might improve her Widow’s Bite to say, “I’m not quite sure what’s going on here.”

 

“We’re looking at an army of robots,” Natasha replies. “We’re not sure who’s controlling them, so we need the Hulk to keep them distracted while Tony figures that out.”

 

Bruce’s smile is rueful. “I never thought I’d see the day when the Other Guy came in handy.”

 

“It’s happened more than once now,” Natasha points out.

 

“Still,” Bruce says.

 

Natasha nods, because she understands what he means. When you’ve spent years being hunted, it’s hard to get out of that mindset, and Bruce isn’t quite there yet.

 

She suspects that’s largely what’s holding Bruce and Tony back—Bruce can’t quite believe he’ll stay in one place, and Tony knows that Bruce will run in a heartbeat.

 

Of course, Natasha still thinks they’re being idiots.

 

When the Quinjet lands in the middle of the street in downtown Denver, Steve asks, “You going to have any trouble, Bruce?”

 

Bruce shakes his head, his mouth twisting into the approximation of a smile. “No, I’m not going to have any trouble, Cap.”

 

Privately, Natasha thinks he’ll find it easier than usual, and she thinks Tony should stay out of his way for a while.

 

“Widow, keep Tony out of trouble,” Steve orders. “I’ll shadow the Hulk.”

 

“I suggest keeping everybody out of my way,” Bruce says as the hatch to the Quinjet opens.

 

Natasha exchanges a significant look with Steve, who nods. “Will do.”

 

Bruce is first out of the Quinjet, and they can hear the Hulk roar a few seconds later, and Cap runs out.

 

“Where do you want to do this?” Natasha asks Tony.

 

Tony flips the faceplate down. “I think it’s going to be easier if we can get one of the robots. I should be able to hack the signal easily enough once we have our hands on it.”

 

Natasha nods. “I think I’d stay out of the Hulk’s way if at all possible.”

 

“No shit,” Tony says sourly. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

 

“If that’s true, then you’re a much bigger idiot than I thought,” Natasha replies.

 

“Let’s go,” Tony says, not responding to her jibe, his voice sounding tinny through the helmet.

 

The Hulk is doing an admirable job of keeping the robots occupied. Natasha spots Cap taking on a robot of his own close to the Hulk, but not so close as to draw his attention.

 

There are a couple of dozen robots, each more than 7 feet tall and as broad as the Hulk, armed with lasers and a variety of other weapons. The Hulk is doing his best to smash them all, but they could really have used Thor and Clint. Natasha can see a few civilians running away, but most of them seem to have vacated the streets.

 

The robots appear to be targeting the buildings, shooting out windows and doors, although they appear to be turning their attention to the Hulk and Cap.

 

Tony releases several tiny missiles that target the robots’ heads to great effect, and then he flies towards a robot on the edge of the disaster area that’s lumbering down the street, away from them.

 

“That’s the one we want,” Tony says over the coms. “I’m going to try to take it down without damaging it too much.”

 

Natasha runs to catch up just as Tony rams into the robot’s chest, and they both tumble end over end. When they skid to a stop, Natasha can see that Tony has a hand in the robot’s chest, and the robot isn’t moving.

 

“Tony? You okay?” Natasha calls.

 

“Never better,” Tony assures her. “Give me just a second, and I’ll have a bead on the signal.”

 

Natasha keeps an eye out for more robots, watching Tony’s back. The Hulk and Cap are probably a block or two away, out of sight, but she can hear Cap over the radio. “We’ve still got about five to go,” he tells her. “How are you doing?”

 

“Iron Man is close to having a lock on the signal,” Natasha replies. “Just keep the rest of them busy.”

 

“Will do,” Cap replies, sounding a little breathless.

 

“Got it!” Tony shouts triumphantly, getting to his feet and hitting the robot’s head with a repulsor beam. “This way.”

 

“We’re going after the person responsible,” Natasha tells Cap.

 

Tony moderates his speed to allow her to keep up, at least for the most part, and leads her to a building a couple of blocks away. “I think he’s on the top floor. You want a ride?”

 

Natasha sighs. “I guess I’d better.”

 

“Hang on,” Tony orders, and Natasha puts her arms around his neck and hangs on tight as Tony flies straight up, one metal-encased arm tight around her waist.

 

He shatters the window in the top floor with a well-placed repulsor blast, and Natasha ducks her head to avoid the shower of glass. The space is open, and completely empty, save for a single man standing at the windows on the other side of the room.

 

“Hey!” a man says. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

He’s wearing some kind of strange headgear—like a metal skullcap with bright blue lights glowing at the temples and forehead. Natasha thinks it looks ridiculous, but she suspects the helmet is how he’s been controlling the robots.

 

“We’re shutting you down,” Tony replies, releasing Natasha. “Take the helmet off.”

 

The man shakes his head. “I got asked to do this. It’s just a job. It’s nothing personal.”

 

“No, you just did millions of dollars worth of property damage,” Natasha replies, advancing on him. “Take off the helmet.”

 

“Forget it,” the man snarls. “In fact, you can go to hell.”

 

Natasha feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she turns to face the robot hovering at the window. She has just enough time to dive out of the way of the barrage of laser blasts, and she reaches for her gun to take out the bad guy.

 

There’s a roar, and the Hulk crashes through what’s left of the windows, hitting the robot from behind. Tony fires the repulsor at the man, knocking him off his feet.

 

Natasha scrambles across the room and rips the helmet off his head, quickly flipping him over and securing his hands behind his back. The Hulk gleefully flattens the robot, then turns to face Tony.

 

Natasha winces and waits for the Hulk to go after him, but the Hulk just stands there, staring at Tony, his chest heaving.

 

“Hey, Jolly Green,” Tony says weakly, holding up his hands. “How’s it hanging?”

 

The Hulk roars at him, full of sound and fury, and then he starts to shrink down, green skin turning pale.

 

Natasha lets out a sigh of relief. Apparently, Bruce isn’t so pissed off at Tony that he wants to beat him to a pulp, which is a good thing, given that the Hulk can be dangerously unpredictable.

 

Strangely enough, Tony hovers at Bruce’s shoulder, but he doesn’t try to touch. “Hey, Bruce, you okay?”

 

“Fine,” Bruce says after a moment. He stands slowly, glancing down with a grimace at the tattered remains of his pants. The scraps of cloth don’t leave much to the imagination. He catches sight of the bad guy. “I didn’t smash him, did I?”

 

“Just robots,” Tony assures him.

 

Bruce glances at Tony. “Did I go after you?”

 

“No, I’m pretty sure you saved our lives,” Tony replies. “So, thanks.”

 

“All part of the service,” Bruce replies. “I guess we’re taking the stairs down.”

 

“Stay here,” Tony says, sounding a little strangled. “I’ll deliver our bad guy to SHIELD and get you some clothes.”

 

Tony flies out, and Bruce smirks.

 

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Natasha says.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I’m just making the best of a bad situation.”

 

“You could tell him, you know,” Natasha replies.

 

Bruce glances at her. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

 

Natasha sighs, and thinks that things are even worse than she thought.

 

~~~~~

 

If he’s being honest, Tony’s avoiding Bruce, which hasn’t been hard to do, given that Bruce doesn’t seem to be going out of his way to spend time with him either.

 

Which sucks, because Tony misses him, and he wants to go to Bruce’s lab half a dozen times a day to talk to him, or pick his brain, or just have a cup of coffee. He knows Bruce won’t turn him away, but he also remembers what Bruce had said about not touching him unless Tony was going to do something about it.

 

Well, Tony isn’t going to do anything about it, because sooner or later, Bruce is going to leave, and then Tony’s going to be alone again.

 

He’s a little surprised when he gets a call to come to SHIELD’s New York headquarters, but he’s not sorry to get out of the Tower for a while, maybe get some distance, get his head around what had happened with Bruce, and what he’s going to do about it.

 

He drives himself, since he hasn’t found a new driver after Happy went to head up security at Stark Industries, working for Pepper.

 

Turns out that Pepper _did_ get the kids in the divorce, Tony thinks sourly.

 

He’s grateful that SHIELD has underground parking, since he’s still hounded by the press any time he’s out in public. He’s not in the mood for it today.

 

Fury’s office is on the top floor and doubles as a conference room. Tony’s willing to bet Fury has another office somewhere else in the building, one that’s more defensible, and more private.

 

The door is open, so Tony walks right in, and Fury rumbles, “Close the door behind you, Mr. Stark.”

 

Natasha is sitting at one end of the long table, and Fury takes the seat next to her. “Sit down,” Fury says. “We need to talk.”

 

“About what, exactly?” Tony asks, throwing himself in a chair across from Natasha.

 

“Bryant wasn’t working alone,” Fury says.

 

“Who?” Tony asks.

 

“The man controlling the robots,” Natasha supplies. “He said it was nothing personal, remember?”

 

Tony shrugs. “Yeah, I remember. Have we figured out who hired him?”

 

“We have,” Natasha replies. “There’s a problem, however. We think you might be able to help.”

 

Before Tony can ask how, Fury touches a button on the table, and a screen comes down from the ceiling. “Meet Monroe Myers,” Fury says. “One of the wealthiest men on earth.”

 

“Not as rich as I am,” Tony replies. “Although I think he makes the top ten. Is he aiming to be another supervillain?”

 

“He’s aiming to fund supervillains,” Fury explains, “and we think he’s coming after you.”

 

“So, I’m bait?” Tony asks.

 

Fury shrugs. “He’s throwing a gala to celebrate breaking ground for his new technology center. In downtown Denver.”

 

Tony frowns. “Anywhere near the site of the destruction?”

 

“Before you arrived on the scene, the robots demolished several buildings whose owners had refused to sell,” Natasha says. “Those same owners can’t afford to rebuild, so they had to sell to Myers, and he gets his very own city block.”

 

“I’m not seeing where I come in,” Tony admits. “Why not just arrest him?”

 

“We don’t have proof, and Bryant either doesn’t know or isn’t saying who hired him,” Fury replies. “Since Agent Romanoff is the one who questioned him, I’m going to guess that he doesn’t know.”

 

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “So, you have nothing to prove he hired Bryant to destroy a large swathe of downtown Denver, and he wants to come after me, plus he’s got some kind of gala to celebrate his nefarious deeds. Does that about sum it up?”

 

“He’ll invite you,” Natasha says quietly. “He has to. He’ll probably want to gloat.”

 

Tony can see where this is going. “And you want me attend with Agent Romanoff on my arm—to do what?”

 

“We’re going to get close to him so I can plant a couple of bugs and a tracker, so that we _can_ get evidence that he’s behind these events, or that he’s behind the next one,” Natasha replies. “We have several devices that are undetectable.”

 

“Look, I’ve heard of Myers, and I know he’s a paranoid son of a bitch. I don’t believe in undetectable when it comes to someone like that,” Tony replies. “He’ll have cutting edge tech, the same as you, and it will probably be better, because he won’t have shared it with the military or anyone else.”

 

Fury glares with his one good eye. “We have good people here, too.”

 

“I’m not saying you don’t,” Tony replies. “But you pay them a government salary, so they work for you because they believe in the cause. You can’t hire the best, brightest, and most mercenary.”

 

“Then what would you suggest?” Fury asks sharply.

 

“I’ll supply the bugs,” Tony replies. “And they’ll be the best in the world, because I’ll have made them. When do you need them?”

 

“The gala is scheduled for Friday,” Natasha replies.

 

Tony thinks for a moment. That gives him four days, which is definitely doable. “I’ll have them ready. We can use my jet. It will look better.”

 

“We’ll set up a safe house for after the gala,” Fury says. “No telling what Myers will try when you’re there. You two can lie low for a night while we make sure the bugs are working, and he hasn’t found them. Natasha will accompany you under the name Natalie Rushman.”

 

Tony smirks. “Why mess with perfection, right?”

 

“It’s a clean alias,” Natasha replies.

 

Tony stands. “I’d better get going. I have work to do if I’m going to get this done in time.”

 

“I’ll send a car for you Friday at noon,” Fury replies. “Let me know if you have any trouble getting the bugs built.”

 

Tony snorts. “Think about who you’re talking to, Director. Natasha, I’ll see you on Friday.”

 

He strides out and realizes that this project gives him an excellent opportunity to mend fences with Bruce. He could ask Bruce for his help, and he knows Bruce would give it to him without question.

 

Tony thinks about it all the way back to the Tower, and there’s a part of him that wants to just forget it, let Bruce stew.

 

But he misses his best friend.

 

He enters Bruce’s lab with a studied nonchalance. “Hey,” he says, as if they haven’t been avoiding each other recently.

 

Bruce glances up with a welcoming smile. “Hey. How’s it going?”

 

And just like that, everything is forgotten. The relief hits Tony like a ton of bricks.

 

“Good,” Tony says. “I just—remember the mad robot guy from Denver?”

 

Bruce nods. “Hard to forget, really.”

 

“SHIELD figured out who hired him. The guy, Myers, is a rich asshole like me, so he’s having a gala to celebrate acquiring some of the land where the robots wreaked their destruction,” Tony explains. “Apparently, I’m invited.”

 

“You’re not an asshole,” Bruce replies with a smile. “At least not most of the time.”

 

“I told Fury I’d create a bug on him that would be untraceable,” Tony says. “I need your help.”

 

Bruce gives him a long look. “All you have to do is ask.”

 

Tony knows Bruce is referring to more than just the bug, but he chooses to ignore that fact. “Thanks,” he says instead. “I appreciate it.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I’m always going to come through for you, Tony.”

 

And really, Tony wants to believe that; he’s just not sure he trusts anybody to come through for him, not always.

 

But Tony has no desire to hurt Bruce, so he says, “I know.”

 

Really, Tony wants it to be true, and he figures if he acts like it’s true, maybe it will be.

 

“Who’s going with you?” Bruce asks.

 

“Natasha,” he replies. “She still has her ID as Natalie Rushman.”

 

Bruce chuckles. “Well, she’ll keep you out of trouble anyway. Let’s see what we can come up with.”

 

~~~~~

 

Natasha wonders if Tony’s going to pull one of his famous stunts and make her wait before he turns up, but he and Bruce meet her in the Penthouse. “Sorry,” Tony says. “I know I’m running a little behind, but Bruce was putting the finishing touches on the bug.”

 

“Oh, sure, throw me under the bus,” Bruce grumbles, but he’s smiling. He doesn’t look like he’s shaved in a couple of days—at least—and his clothes are rumpled and stained, but he appears cheerful enough. Tony, who’s impeccably dressed in a tux, and has a small overnight bag at his feet, doesn’t appear at all tired.

 

Bruce holds out a box. “Here.”

 

Natasha opens it and sees four small, transparent discs, along with what looks like a more traditional bug.

 

“The discs should be undetectable, and will virtually disappear into his skin,” Bruce says. “Ideally, it will mimic the texture of his skin, but we’ve only been able to conduct limited testing. I recommend putting all four on him, or finding someone close to him and planting one on them.”

 

“And the other?” Natasha asks.

 

“My suggestion is to bug his phone or computer,” Bruce replies. “Failing that, bug the phone of his bodyguard. I figure he has to have one or two.”

 

Natasha nods. “This gives us options.”

 

Bruce glances at Tony, and then hands her another box. “This is something I came up with, based on our previous conversation.”

 

The long box holds two gold bangles, which complement her burgundy gown. Natasha puts one on each arm, and they hug her wrists perfectly.

 

Bruce touches the one on her right wrist. “Tranquilizer. Each one holds three doses, which also contains a radioactive marker. It won’t do long term damage, but it will allow me, or SHIELD, to track them for up to three weeks.”

 

He quickly shows her how to release the needle. “Good luck.”

 

“Thanks,” Natasha replies, and impulsively touches his shoulder. “I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

 

“You’d better,” Bruce says, and looks at Tony. “Be careful, huh?”

 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Tony promises.

 

Natasha thinks they’re being ridiculous—it’s clear they’re still dancing around the issue—but at least they’re talking again and appear to be on amicable terms.

 

That doesn’t mean she’s ruled out the possibility of locking them in a very small room together until they hash things out. It’s just going to have to wait until after she and Tony get back from Denver.

 

She might have said something to Tony on the trip to Denver, but she wants to get through this mission with a minimum of fuss, and it appears that Tony is in a good mood. A sulky Tony will be of no use to her.

 

“You mind if I get a few things done?” Tony asks once they’re on the jet, breaking the nearly comfortable silence that has fallen between them.

 

Natasha shakes her head. “No, of course not.”

 

“We’ve been working full out on the bugs,” Tony says. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like any extras back.”

 

Natasha raises her eyebrows. “You didn’t build in a way to protect yourself against them?”

 

“Of course I did,” Tony says, sounding insulted. “But that doesn’t mean I want to risk just anybody getting their hands on it.”

 

“SHIELD isn’t just anybody,” Natasha objects.

 

Tony shrugs. “Once burned, twice shy. I’m careful about who gets my tech.”

 

Natasha can’t fault him for that. “I’ll make sure any extras get returned to you.”

 

“The bracelets are yours, by the way,” Tony says. “They were Bruce’s idea. He said something about keeping me safe.”

 

Natasha just manages to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Really, they’re _morons_. She has every intention of knocking some sense into them both the first chance she gets.

 

She uses the plane ride to catch up on some reading, mostly mission reports that she hasn’t been able to keep up on. Tony works steadily on his Stark Pad during the plane ride, not even glancing up at Natasha.

 

Tony seems to put all of that aside when they land at DIA, because he holds out an arm. “Come on,” he says. “We might as well make it look good.”

 

“Can you do this?” Natasha asks quietly.

 

“Miss Rushman, don’t doubt me now,” Tony says mockingly. “I’m fully capable of pretending to be a rich asshole with a beautiful woman on my arm.”

 

Natasha takes the obvious road, and turns it into a compliment. “I never doubted it.”

 

The compliment seems to disarm Tony because he smiles. “What? You’re not going to say I am a rich asshole?”

 

“Don’t fish for compliments,” Natasha orders.

 

“Not fishing,” Tony says, and then holds her hand as they descend the stairs of the plane, exactly like a doting boyfriend. “You hungry? We can stop for food before the party.”

 

“I’m fine,” Natasha replies. “But thanks for asking.”

 

“Well, Myers will probably have decent food there,” Tony says. “He would have to, to maintain his reputation.”

 

The limo drops them off in front of the Brown Palace in downtown Denver, and from the location, Natasha knows what Myers is going for. The gathering is small and intimate, and the security is tight. The Brown Palace is a historic location, which means that Myers is demonstrating that he cares about the past, even as he plans for the future.

 

“Nice touch,” Natasha murmurs after Tony shows his invitation to the security at the door. “Having it here.”

 

“It’s almost like he’s trying to convince people that he’s one of them,” Tony murmurs.

 

Natasha smiles. “Dance with me.”

 

Tony dances quite well, and they pass the next couple of hours pleasantly enough, although they don’t attempt to approach Myers. Natasha trusts that Myers won’t let the evening pass without approaching Tony, and she’s not wrong.

 

“Ah, Mr. Stark,” Myers exclaims as they take a break to get a drink and a bite to eat. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

 

Tony smiles, wide and guileless. “How could I resist your invitation? Congratulations on your new acquisition, by the way.”

 

There isn’t a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and Myers laughs. “Thank you. It was a tricky negotiation, but persistence pays off.”

 

“Don’t I know it,” Tony agrees. “Have you met my companion? This is Natalie Rushman.”

 

“Miss Rushman, it’s a pleasure to have such a beautiful woman grace my celebration,” Myers says, pressing a kiss to Natasha’s hand.

 

There’s an effortless charm about him that Natasha might find appealing if she didn’t know better. “I’m happy to be here to help you celebrate,” she says, giving him a smile that’s brought lesser men to their knees.

 

“Can I ask you to dance?” Myers asks, smirking at Tony, like he thinks he’s stealing something from him.

 

Natasha glances at Tony as though she’s asking his permission, and Tony shrugs. “Have fun. I think I’ll get something to eat.”

 

Myers takes her hand and leads her out on the dance floor, and then he pulls her close, putting one hand just high enough above her ass to be decent, but low enough to make a point and a claim.

 

Natasha says nothing, just focuses on the job. She puts a hand on his neck, planting a bug on his hairline, and then behind his ear. Before the dance is out, she manages a third under his watchband. Her wandering hands can’t find a phone, so she has to rely on bugging other things.

 

The fourth she saves for Myers’ primary bodyguard, who seems to be attempting to remain anonymous, although she spots him easily. She allows Myers’ insistence on a second dance, and then she heads the bathroom. That allows her to brush close enough to the bodyguard to pick his pocket and grab his phone, and she plants the bug while she’s in the stall.

 

The conversation between the two—or possibly three—women who entered just after she had keeps Natasha where she is.

 

“Can you believe Stark?” one of them asks. “Showing up with an assistant on his arm.”

 

“You know, he _dated_ his assistant for a couple of years,” someone else says halfheartedly. “I heard she couldn’t put up with the superhero bit.”

 

“God, what I would give to be in her shoes,” says a third voice, and now Natasha is certain there are three others in the bathroom. “I hear he never disappoints. I had a friend who slept with him—she said he ruined her for other men.”

 

Someone else snorts. “That’s ridiculous. He can’t be _that_ good.”

 

“She came four times!” the woman replies. “ _And_ she said his genius extends to sex.”

 

“Please, that was my anniversary date,” the first voice replies, and then the voices fade as they leave.

 

Natasha thinks the gossip is a little silly, but it’s also confirmation of what Clint had said. Assuming they both get out of the hotel in one piece, and that they’re stuck in the safe house for as long as Natasha thinks they might be, she might just be willing to do something to alleviate the boredom.

 

~~~~~

 

The party is all glitz and very little substance, just like a hundred other parties Tony has attended, and even the knowledge that Natasha is planting bugs on their host isn’t enough to liven things up.

 

Really, Tony would have preferred to have Bruce as his date; Bruce might have hated it, but they could have talked science. Or anything else.

 

He’s working on his third martini when Natasha rejoins him. “Let’s get out of here before Myers makes me an offer I will have to refuse.”

 

Tony puts a hand on her back in a possessive gesture that’s purely for show.

 

And, well, maybe he wants to piss Myers off, just on the off chance that Myers is watching.

 

Natasha’s smile suggests she knows exactly what he’s doing and why, and since she leans into him slightly, he doesn’t think she minds.

 

The town car pulls up in front of the hotel, and they climb into the back. Natasha greets the driver by name, and Tony leans back in his seat, loosening his tie as the car pulls smoothly into Denver traffic.

 

Natasha pulls out her cell phone and dials a number. “It’s done,” she says.

 

There’s a pause, and Tony assumes she’s listening to instructions. “Of course, sir.”

 

When she hangs up, Natasha says, “Fury wants to wait until at least tomorrow night to leave, just to make sure Myers doesn’t find the bugs.”

 

“He’s not going to find them,” Tony replies. “We tested it out on me.”

 

Natasha frowns at him. “You bugged yourself?”

 

Tony smiles. “Inactive, but I’ll bet you can’t find it.”

 

It’s a bit of harmless flirting as far as Tony’s concerned, almost reflex at this point, but instead of rolling her eyes or shutting him down, Natasha says, “And what will you give me if I win?”

 

Tony swallows, abruptly feeling as though he’s playing with fire. “What do you want?”

 

Natasha’s gaze grows more predatory. “Eat me out.”

 

Tony shrugs, trying to keep a straight face with some effort. “I’d have done that anyway.”

 

She hums thoughtfully. “How about I ask you a question, and you give me a completely honest answer.”

 

That’s a little more difficult to promise, because he has no idea what Natasha will ask, but he’s comfortable putting his faith in his tech. “All right. And what will you give me when I win?” Tony asks with a smirk.

 

“I’m going to give you a get out of jail free card for the next time you irritate the hell out of me,” Natasha replies easily.

 

That actually sounds like a pretty good deal, and Tony says, “Yeah, sure.”

 

He’s still not sure she’ll actually go through with it. The car pulls up in front of a high-rise apartment building, and Tony is gentleman enough to grab both their cases from the trunk.

 

The doorman buzzes them in without ceremony, and he’s dressed in a suit, rather than a uniform, and Tony can see the discreet bulge of a gun in a shoulder holster. Tony suspects he’s from SHIELD, and he nods at them silently, so Tony follows Natasha into the elevator.

 

“Cameras in the apartment?” Tony asks as the elevator goes up.

 

Natasha smiles. “Not in the bedroom or bathroom.”

 

“I can work with that,” Tony replies.

 

The apartment is minimally furnished with sleek, modern furniture, and with the open floor plan, it looks rather vaster than Tony had expected from a SHIELD safe house. “This seems a little too rich for SHIELD’s blood.”

 

“The owner owed us a favor,” Natasha replies. “It’s a second home for him, and it’s easily defensible. Plus, if Myers does find out where we are, it won’t raise eyebrows for you to stay here.”

 

Tony nods, wandering over to the windows. They’re not on the top floor, but one floor down, and Tony had noticed that there’s only one other apartment on their floor. “What about the other tenants?”

 

“Out of town on an unexpected business trip,” Natasha replies with an expression that suggests the trip had been orchestrated by SHIELD. “There’s a team over there now to make sure we don’t have unwelcome guests.”

 

Tony continues his exploration, finding a huge bathroom that he wouldn’t be ashamed to own, and a bedroom with a luxurious bed. “I assume you’re not going to ask me to sleep on the couch,” he calls over his shoulder.

 

Natasha places her hands on Tony’s shoulders; he hadn’t heard her approach. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

 

Tony turns to face her and realizes that she’s already stepped out of her heels. “Just so we’re clear, this isn’t one of those things where we have sex and you kill me afterward, right?”

 

Natasha grabs his tie. “No, it’s not.”

 

“And you’re really good with this,” Tony says.

 

She tugs his tie loose. “I will be if you _make_ it good.”

 

“Challenge accepted,” Tony murmurs, and lets her pull his head down for a heated kiss.

 

Natasha keeps her hands busy, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt, and Tony can tell when she sees the scar left by the arc reactor.

 

The best plastic surgeons in the world couldn’t erase that mark.

 

She lays her hand over the scar, and through the thick cicatrix, he can feel the heat from her hand. “I can’t believe you went through with it.”

 

“I didn’t need it anymore,” Tony replies honestly.

 

Natasha responds by pushing his shirt off his shoulders, letting it float to the floor, and Tony returns the favor by finding the zipper in the back of her dress.

 

Natasha shrugs her shoulders, and the burgundy silk pools at her feet. Her lace bra and underwear are a red just a few shades lighter than the material of her dress, and look gorgeous against her pale skin.

 

She undoes his belt with skillful fingers, and Tony toes his shoes off, shucking pants and briefs in one easy motion.

 

“I think you’re overdressed,” Tony observes.

 

Natasha laughs. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

That’s as much permission as Tony needs, and he unhooks her bra, slipping the straps down her shoulders, just cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples, and then using his mouth.

 

Natasha pushes her hands into his hair and begins to back up, leading them both to the bed. Tony doesn’t stop what he’s doing, tonguing her nipple, and when she lays back, he begins to kiss his way down her stomach. She lifts her hips so that Tony can pull off her underwear, and then he brings his mouth to bear on her.

 

Her moans, and her fingers tightening in his hair, tell Tony that he’s doing something right, and he listens to the sounds she makes, adjusting his technique accordingly.

 

The bedroom is one area where Tony has plenty of experience, and he knows how to read a partner.

 

“I want your fingers,” Natasha says on a gasp of pleasure.

 

Tony obeys, inserting one finger and then two, keeping his tongue on her clit, and she gasps as she comes. “More?” Tony asks. “Or should I break out the condom?”

 

“You brought one then,” Natasha says with a warm smile, languid after her orgasm.

 

Tony grins. “Habit. I never leave home without one. Or three.”

 

“Ambitious,” Natasha comments, although she doesn’t appear upset by the idea. “Let’s see you carry out that promise. I heard in the ladies’ bathroom that you made someone come four times in one night.”

 

Tony grins. “Is that a challenge?”

 

“Mmm,” Natasha agrees, “although I think I’d like to make good on that bet first.”

 

She rolls them with a strength that doesn’t surprise Tony but that he imagines most men would be shocked to feel.

 

Tony likes it, but then he’s always been attracted to strength in a partner, whatever form it takes.

 

Natasha drives him crazy by keeping a light touch, running her hands over every inch of his skin, through his hair, finding the ticklish spots over his ribs, and the soles of his feet. He’s on the edge of orgasm, hard and aching, but at the same time, he’s feeling entirely smug at how successful they’ve been.

 

And then Natasha’s lips find a spot on his collarbone, and he feels her teeth brush against his skin. Tony can see the nearly transparent bug between her teeth.

 

He groans, feeling the failure, and then Natasha squeezes his cock. “Remember, I’m trained, and I was looking for it. I only found it on my second pass.”

 

That makes Tony feel a little better. “I owe you one,” he says.

 

“That can wait,” Natasha replies. “Where’s the condom?”

 

“Outer pocket of my bag,” Tony replies.

 

He doesn’t mind the idea of Natasha rummaging in his things, and she comes up with a strip of foil-wrapped condoms. He admires the way she tears open one of the packages with her teeth, rolling it onto Tony’s cock with an easy motion.

 

And then she sinks down onto him without any kind of warning. She feels tight and hot around him, and she undulates her hips, her long, lean muscles flexing beneath creamy skin.

 

In this light, Tony can see the scars scattered on her body, most faded, but a few still pink, one an angry red. He cups one of her breasts, circling her nipple with his thumb, finding her clit with his other hand, letting her ride him to completion.

 

When she rolls off, a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, Tony pulls off the condom and ties it off. “Do I need to get another? Because if you give me some time, I’ll probably be up for another round.”

 

Natasha smiles. “You know, just because you’re not up for another round doesn’t mean I’m not.”

 

“Happy to oblige,” Tony says, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for a marathon session.

 

Although, he has to admit—several hours later when he’s come once more, and Natasha three times more—he’s feeling inordinately pleased with himself. More pleased with the fact that Natasha is curled up next to him, close enough to feel her body heat, looking about as content as he’s ever seen her look.

 

“So, you going to ask your question now?” Tony asks.

 

“Shower, then sleep, then food, then question,” Natasha replies imperiously. “I get the first shower.”

 

Tony’s too tired to argue, so they do exactly that—shower separately, sleep in the huge bed, and eat a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. When they’re sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee, Natasha says, “Not that last night wasn’t great, but why the hell are you fucking me and not Bruce?”

 

The question catches him completely off guard, and all Tony can do is gape at her for a very long minute.

 

“You want to,” Natasha says bluntly. “And he wants it too.”

 

Tony can’t argue with her; he knows that Bruce would welcome more than what they currently have. But if he hadn’t made a bet and promised an honest answer, he knows he’d make a joke and deflect. “He’s going to leave,” Tony says after a moment’s silence. “Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but eventually, Bruce will leave.”

 

Natasha’s expression says that she thinks he’s being an idiot. “Then give him a reason to stay,” she says reasonably. “And if that’s not enough, give him a reason to come back.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “I need him to want to stay,” he replies, feeling a little raw from the honesty.

 

Somehow, sitting in a SHIELD safe house with Natasha in yoga pants and a t-shirt and no makeup, Tony can be brutally honest.

 

Then again, Natasha has always managed to pull an honest answer out of people.

 

“And maybe he needs you to ask him to stay,” Natasha replies. “I’ve read his file, Tony. He won’t stay where he’s not wanted.”

 

“He’s wanted in the Tower!” Tony protests. “He should know that.”

 

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot,” she says, although her tone is not without affection. “Make a move on him before you either pine away, or he turns into the Hulk and smashes things.”

 

“Bruce’s control is much better than that,” Tony replies, but he can hear the uncertainty in his own voice.

 

Natasha reaches across the counter to touch his hand. “It is, but I think he deserves your honesty. Don’t you?”

 

And really, Tony can’t argue with that.


	6. Bruce

Bruce curses when he realizes that his equations are all wrong, feeling an irrational spike of anger.

 

He’s used to being angry, but it feels outsized for the problem at hand—sharper and harder than he’s felt in a long time.

 

“Um, Dr. Banner?”

 

The hesitant question makes him swallow down his rage, and he pastes on a pleasant smile as he turns to his research assistant. “What is it?”

 

Cole swallows nervously. “Would you mind if I go get a coffee? I could use the air.”

 

“Sure, go ahead,” Bruce says, trying to sound gracious. It’s not until after Cole leaves that Bruce realizes that Cole had been freaked out enough to leave.

 

And he hates scaring people, but he’s feeling pretty fucking scary right now, so maybe it’s for the best that everyone gives him a wide berth.

 

Tony certainly has.

 

Bruce pulls his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose, and thinks that probably isn’t fair. Tony has only been back from Denver for a few days.

 

But Tony had also promised they’d talk, and there hasn’t been a lot of talking going on.

 

Bruce has never thought of himself as a jealous person, but then he’s never been faced with someone he wants so badly, who seems to be interested in anyone _but_ Bruce. And if Bruce believed that Tony really wasn’t interested in him at all, he might have been able to move on, but he knows otherwise.

 

Tony’s interested, but he won’t pull the trigger, and Bruce doesn’t quite know what to do about that—other than march up to Tony and stick his tongue down Tony’s throat. And that option is not off the table, even though that’s not something Bruce normally does.

 

He hears the door slide open, and he ignores it until he hears Natasha say, “You’re scaring people.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath before he turns to face her, feeling a stab of guilt. He’s frightened her before, and he refuses to do so again. “What?”

 

“There’s literally no one on this floor right now, other than you and me,” Natasha says. “Do you know why that is?”

 

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Bruce says wryly.

 

“Because you have been in a foul mood for weeks, and it’s only getting worse,” Natasha says. “And no one else is willing to call you on it.”

 

Bruce feels the meanness, what he thinks of as his father’s legacy, rise up in his chest. “And you appointed yourself.”

 

“It was either me or Steve, and I volunteered, because I have some idea of what the problem is,” Natasha replies.

 

Bruce keeps his cool only because he’s had a lot of practice doing so. “What reason is that?”

 

“Just fuck him already,” Natasha says. “And while you’re at it, tell Tony you have no intention of leaving, because that’s really all he wants. Tony wants to know that someone is sticking around for _him_ , and he doesn’t think you will.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath, and tries to evaluate her words objectively. If he thinks about it, she probably has a point. He’s known for running, and Bruce knows Tony well enough to recognize just how deep his abandonment issues lie.

 

Realistically, his best bet is to go to Tony and lay it all on the table, and tell him that Bruce has no intention of going anywhere.

 

But Bruce still feels the sting knowing that Tony has slept with just about everyone on the team—or maybe _everyone_ on the team—other than him. He can’t help but think that maybe he’s the one who’s lacking.

 

Whether or not that’s actually the case, that’s how Bruce _feels_.

 

Bruce has no idea what shows on his face, but Natasha puts both hands on his shoulders, even though Bruce knows she’s not much for human contact. “He’s just as interested in you as you are in him,” she says gently. “And you’ll never know until you try. Put us all out of our misery and make a play.”

 

There’s something in her voice that makes Bruce say, “You talked to Tony already.”

 

“I cannot be held responsible for him having his head up his ass,” Natasha replies. “Bruce, be happy.”

 

He wonders when that got to be so hard, when it became impossible for him to go after what he really wants.

 

Bruce resolves not to let that hold him back.

 

“I’ll try,” he promises. “A lot depends on Tony.”

 

It’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud. He’s not sure what it says about him that it’s Natasha who hears his confession.

 

“Let me know if I need to kick his ass,” Natasha replies, and then pats him on the shoulder in a weirdly tender gesture.

 

Bruce probably shouldn’t be surprised. They’d spent a lot of time together over the last months, between Steve and Tony being drugged, and now.

 

He’ll meditate, he decides, and get some distance, and then he’ll make his move. If Tony rejects him—well, Bruce has a lot of corners of the world where he can disappear.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony hasn’t been _trying_ to avoid Bruce over the last few days. As soon as he’d returned from Denver, though, he’d been slammed with urgent things he had to do right then as the CTO—contracts to sign off on, proposals to review, acquisitions to consider. He’s let things pile up over the last couple of weeks, and now it’s biting him in the ass.

 

Then again, the time gives him an opportunity to think about what Natasha had said, and about whether he’s willing to take this risk.

 

Tony suspects that he doesn’t have much of a choice; the feelings aren’t going to go away, and Bruce may run either way.

 

By the time Tony catches up on his work, he’s decided to go for broke—because if Bruce really does feel the same way, Tony might have another reason to keep him around besides friendship.

 

“Jarvis, where’s Bruce?” Tony asks when he clears out his inbox enough to ensure that Pepper isn’t going to yell at him any time soon.

 

Well, she’s not going to yell at him for not getting his shit done at least.

 

“Dr. Banner is in his lab,” Jarvis replies. “And I feel I should warn you that everyone else has vacated the floor.”

 

Tony winces. “Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign. Do you know the last time he ate?”

 

“I believe he had breakfast, sir,” Jarvis replies.

 

Tony glances at the clock and realizes that means Bruce probably hasn’t eaten for twelve hours, which is bound to make anybody cranky. “Order in from that Thai place Bruce likes,” Tony says. “Whatever he likes.”

 

“I’m not sure that Dr. Banner has a particular favorite,” Jarvis says.

 

“Then order a little bit of everything he’s ordered in the past,” Tony orders. “And have it delivered to Bruce’s lab. Put a rush on it. I’m going to grab a shower and join him.”

 

Tony refuses to primp like a teenage girl, but he does put a little extra care in his appearance—jeans that are worn in all the right places, and a black t-shirt that’s just a little too tight.

 

He thinks of it as stacking the deck in his favor and hopes that it gives him an edge. Not that he needs it, but Tony wants to hedge his bets.

 

“Is Bruce still in his lab?” Tony asks after he gets dressed.

 

“Yes, sir, but I’m not sure for how much longer,” Jarvis replies. “He seems to be shutting down his computer.”

 

“Keep him there,” Tony orders. “I don’t care how you do it. Tell whoever’s at reception to put the food on my card and bring it to Bruce’s lab.”

 

When he enters Bruce’s lab, Bruce glances up. “You know why Jarvis won’t let me out?”

 

“No idea,” Tony lies. “But I ordered Thai to be delivered to your lab, so maybe that has something to do with it.”

 

Bruce’s expression suggests that he doesn’t buy it for a second. “Uh huh. Any reason why you’re locking me in my lab now when you’ve been avoiding me for the last few days?”

 

“First of all, I wasn’t avoiding you,” Tony says. “I had Pepper threatening to string me up by my balls if I didn’t clear my inbox.”

 

Bruce looks decidedly unimpressed. “That doesn’t explain why I can’t leave.”

 

“I told you, I have Thai food being delivered,” Tony replies. “I heard you might be hungry.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You mean you had Jarvis spying on me.”

 

“Guilty as charged,” Tony admits. “But I wanted to talk to you.”

 

Bruce’s expression grows guarded. “Okay.”

 

“The last few months have been pretty fucked up, right?” Tony asks, his mouth a little dry.

 

Bruce shrugs. “I guess. I’ve had worse months.”

 

“But you’ve had better,” Tony says, reading between the lines.

 

“I guess you could say that, too,” Bruce admits. “What the hell is this, Tony?”

 

Tony had been ready to plead his case, to give a point-by-point list of why Bruce should have sex with him—or more accurately, that Bruce should be in a long-term relationship with him.

 

What he ends up doing is closing the distance between them, his hands on either side of Bruce’s face, kissing him with every bit of skill and passion he possesses.

 

Bruce stays frozen for just long enough that Tony starts to worry, and then he surges forward, his hands on Tony’s shoulders, taking control of the kiss. Bruce pushes until Tony’s back hits the edge of the lab bench, and then Bruce moves one hand to the back of Tony’s head, holding him in place.

 

When Bruce pulls back, he says, “Don’t dick me around, Tony.”

 

“Well, I’m kind of hoping our dicks will get involved at some point, but I mean this,” Tony replies with a grin. “I want _you_.”

 

“For how long?” Bruce asks.

 

“How about as long as you’ll have me?” Tony counters.

 

Bruce takes a step back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “What about the rest of the team?” he asks, hope and disbelief warring in his voice.

 

Tony debates how to explain, and then decides the easiest route is the truth. “This is the first time I’ve initiated anything since Pepper, you know.”

 

“Oh,” Bruce says in a small voice. “I thought that maybe—maybe it was just me.”

 

“You mean too much for me to fuck around,” Tony admits. “It was always going to be all or nothing with us.”

 

Bruce’s expression turns calculating. “Yeah, I guess it was.”

 

“You still hungry?” Tony asks. Bruce’s stomach rumbles right on cue, and Tony says, “Never mind.”

 

Bruce shrugs good-naturedly. “I’m going to need my energy for later, right?”

 

“Oh, God, I hope so,” Tony replies fervently.

 

“Then I think I’d better eat,” Bruce says.

 

“We can take the food up to my rooms,” Tony suggests. “That might be cozier.”

 

“And what are we going to do until then?” Bruce asks.

 

Tony grins. “Oh, I have a few ideas.”

 

They just make out for the next thirty minutes, as long as it takes for their food to arrive, with Tony’s hands shoved up under Bruce’s shirt, and Bruce tracing patterns on Tony’s back.

 

And fuck, it’s _nice_ not to have an agenda, and just to kiss Bruce without any pressure to move it to the next level. It’s nice just to be touched by someone who wants him as much as he wants them, and not just right now, but for a while.

 

It’s nice thinking that he might wake up next to Bruce tomorrow, and that will just be the first day.

 

Tony’s hoping for a thousand days, ten thousand, as many as Bruce will give him.

 

When the food finally arrives, Bruce chuckles. “Here, or somewhere else?”

 

“My place,” Tony replies. “You’re going to love my bed. You’ll probably never want to leave.”

 

Bruce gives him a long look. “Is that a promise?”

 

“You’re probably going to want to kill me occasionally,” Tony admits. “But I want you to stay.”

 

“I’m going to stay,” Bruce promises. “I want that.”

 

There’s a couple of chairs and a coffee table in Tony’s private quarters, and they eat right out of the cartons—spring rolls and _mi krop_ and Pad Thai, and green curry, which Bruce devours, even though the fist spicy bite makes the sweat bead up on Tony’s forehead.

 

Bruce laughs at him, but Tony doesn’t mind, because it’s not a cruel laughter.

 

When they’ve plowed through about half the food, Bruce pushes back and gives Tony a long look. “I’d like to fuck you,” he says mildly, and he might have been discussing the weather in that tone of voice.

 

Tony blinks, not expecting that bold of a gambit, and he says, “I, uh. Yeah. Okay. Me too. I mean, you can.”

 

Bruce smiles. “It’s easier to stay in control if—well, if I _stay_ in control.”

 

Tony can think of a hundred ways to make that work for him, and he says, “Sure. Whatever you need.”

 

The bed is large and inviting, and Bruce begins to strip off his clothing with little fanfare. He’s certainly not body-shy, but as often as he winds up naked in strange places, Tony thinks that might be self-preservation as much as anything else.

 

Tony takes his time, giving Bruce a show. He’s less worried about the scar from the arc reactor—and the shrapnel, and the surgery—than he might have been with anybody who didn’t really know his history. Other than the scars, Tony knows he looks good; he’s been training as much as possible to stay in top physical shape.

 

He’s not as young as he used to be, and the rest of the Avengers are much younger, other than Bruce—but age doesn’t seem to faze the Other Guy, so that doesn’t really count.

 

And Tony knows that he doesn’t have the body of Steve or Thor, or even Clint or Natasha, but when Bruce gets undressed, he stops thinking about that.

 

Partly because it’s _Bruce_ , and he’s naked, and Tony’s wanted this for a long time. But partly because Bruce’s body, like Tony’s, shows the wear and tear, and the age. His chest hair is salt and pepper, too, and there are faint scars from what Tony can only assume was Bruce’s life before the Other Guy.

 

Bruce is lean, but without the heavy muscles that Steve or Thor have, or even Clint’s powerful upper body. He’s just—well. Tony can’t resist touching, running his hands over Bruce’s shoulders and arms. “You look great,” Tony says honestly.

 

Bruce gives him an incredulous look. “I’m nothing special.”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Tony replies. “Even though I never say that to someone I plan to sleep with before too long.”

 

Bruce kisses him again, and this time manhandles Tony to the bed. He finishes stripping Tony, pulling off Tony’s pants, and then dropping his own, and then Bruce covers Tony’s body with his own compact form.

 

“We don’t have to do anything,” Bruce offers as he sucks a mark onto Tony’s collarbone. “I could just get you off.”

 

Tony clutches him tighter. “Fuck me,” he insists, because he knows Bruce will stick around after that. Knowing Bruce he’ll at least make sure that Tony is okay, and then offer to give Tony space.

 

Tony has no intention of asking for that space.

 

“You sure?” Bruce asks. “I didn’t think—”

 

“Don’t think,” Tony orders. “Just _do it_. Lube and condoms are in the bedside table.”

 

Bruce huffs a laugh. “Of course they are. Give me a second.”

 

Tony hasn’t done much on the receiving end, but the idea is turning him on right now. Bruce has incredible control, and Tony trusts him. Bruce won’t hurt him, and Tony thinks he can just let Bruce do whatever he wants.

 

For once, he can let someone else call the shots. It’s been awhile.

 

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Bruce promises, coating his finger with lube, and dribbling more into his palm. “I swear.”

 

“I trust you,” Tony replies, because that’s as much as he can give Bruce right now.

 

From Bruce’s smile, Tony thinks it might just be enough.

 

~~~~~

 

Bruce resists the urge to pinch himself as he slicks up his fingers and begins to work Tony open. He keeps one hand on Tony’s abdomen, feeling the tension as he eases one finger inside. “Okay?” he asks.

 

“I’m fine,” Tony says impatiently. “Come on.”

 

“Patience,” Bruce advises, even though there’s a part of him that wants to just take Tony right now, and forget all gentleness.

 

He’s got control, though; Bruce is better than that.

 

It’s been a long time, but he knows how this works, and he finds Tony’s prostate after a few seconds, and strokes.

 

“Oh, fuck,” Tony says, his back arching up, straining against Bruce’s hand. “Fuck.”

 

“Good?”

 

“Don’t you fucking stop,” Tony says a little breathlessly.

 

Bruce takes his time, hitting Tony’s prostate sporadically, enjoying the opportunity to drive him crazy. Bruce is slower, more careful than he probably needs to be.

 

Tony lets out a long string of curses. “Fuck, seriously, Bruce, I’m not going to break. Come on.”

 

Bruce gives him a wicked smile and holds Tony in place, scissoring two fingers. “And what are you going to do if I don’t? What if I just do this for hours?”

 

“You are an evil fucking genius,” Tony gasps as Bruce crooks his fingers. “But seriously, I can take more.”

 

Bruce inserts a third finger and moves just as slowly, just as carefully. “Think about how long I had to wait,” he says with a twist of his fingers. “And then think about how long I could make you wait.”

 

“To be fair, it wasn’t like you made a move,” Tony replies, and then throws his head back as Bruce begins to stroke him relentlessly. “Okay, fuck, I’m sorry.”

 

In response, Bruce puts his head down and swallows Tony’s cock.

 

Tony stops making sense right about then as Bruce uses his tongue to drive him crazy, bobbing up and down. He can tell when Tony’s right about to come, and he pulls off, and withdraws his fingers.

 

“ _You bastard_ ,” Tony gasps.

 

Bruce smirks and rolls on a condom. “Is now really a good time to insult my mother?”

 

Tony lifts his head to glare at Bruce, his pupils blown wide. “I thought you said you were going to fuck me.”

 

Bruce pushes inside, not giving Tony any warning, and Tony lets out a long moan. “Okay?” Bruce asks insistently.

 

“Seriously?” Tony gasps out. “Because you feel really fucking good.”

 

Bruce grins, and begins to thrust shallowly, one hand on Tony’s cock, jerking him off as Bruce begins to move a little faster.

 

“Yeah,” Tony mutters. “Yeah, like that.”

 

“Should have known you’d be pushy when you’re bottoming,” Bruce murmurs with a grin.

 

Tony gives him a brief grin. “Have you met me?”

 

Bruce moves his hips and jerks Tony off, and isn’t surprised at how fast Tony comes, semen spurting over Bruce’s hand. Bruce moves a little faster yet, his own orgasm not far behind. When he finishes, he pulls out slowly, removing the condom and tying it off, grabbing a warm washcloth and using it to clean himself off. He rinses it, and brings it to Tony, who does the same, and then drops it on the floor.

 

“You’re going to stay here, right?” Tony says, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Bruce replies, any thought of heading back to his own room gone. He settles next to Tony and doesn’t mind when Tony pulls him close, slinging an arm over Bruce’s waist.

 

Bruce closes his eyes and grins, feeling warm and loose.

 

“You know, after this, I’m pretty sure that if we add any team members, they have to sleep with me first,” Tony says sleepily, a teasing note in his voice.

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You do realizes that you are _literally_ in bed with someone who can go green with jealousy, right?”

 

“So that would be a no on seeing other people,” Tony says, pressing his lips to Bruce’s bare shoulder.

 

“That would be a no,” Bruce agrees. “Maybe you just saved the best for last.”

 

“Think I did,” Tony mumbles, and then his breath evens out in sleep, and Bruce presses a kiss to the top of Tony’s head.

 

Maybe it had taken them awhile, but Bruce thinks they might have ended up where they needed to be.


	7. Epilogue - Six Months Later

Tony rubs his eyes as the presenter moves on to the next slide, trying to explain why Stark Industries should purchase his company. He’s bored nearly to death, and he’s close to just getting up and walking out, faking the flu, even if it would piss Pepper off.

 

But then, he’s not dating Pepper anymore, so it’s not like he’ll see her at home.

 

Bruce’s big, warm hand finds his knee under the table and squeezes. Whether he means it to or not, that touch reminds Tony of the night before, and he can think about something other than cut-rate technology from a poorly run company.

 

He wouldn’t even be here, but they’ve got some proprietary tech that will take Stark Industries’ already existing projects to the next level.

 

Really, the sale is a done deal. They’re just letting this guy try to sell them on it because it helps them not to seem too desperate.

 

It doesn’t hurt that this idiot has no idea what he has.

 

“Tony?” Pepper says in that insistent tone that means she’s had to say his name more than once.

 

Tony is very familiar with that tone.

 

Since Tony has no idea what the question was, he glances at Bruce. “I think what Tony means to say is that the technology has very limited uses, but we’ll consider the possibility.”

 

Pepper gives a slight eye roll. “Thank you, Dr. Banner.”

 

“And with that, we have to get going,” Tony says, getting to his feet and pulling Bruce along with him. “We have that very important thing.”

 

Bruce snorts, but says, “Right. That simulation won’t run itself.”

 

The nice thing about having meetings in the Tower is that they’re seconds away from their labs, or Tony’s bedroom, which Bruce is still sharing a year after they’d gone to bed together for the first time.

 

This time, however, they head for the lab, because there really is a simulation.

 

“What’s your decision about Thor’s invitation?” Tony asks as they enter his lab.

 

Bruce shrugs. “Could be fun. From what you’ve said, Asgard is pretty awesome. I’m going to have to say no to drunken orgies, though.”

 

“Now, why would I be interested in a drunken orgy when I have you?” Tony asks, flirting shamelessly, pulling Bruce in for a kiss.

 

“Hmm,” Bruce says. “The fact that gods are involved comes to mind.”

 

“They’ve got nothing on you,” Tony says, kissing him again.

 

“You’re insane,” Bruce replies, but he’s smiling. “Come on, there’s science to do.”

 

Tony hangs onto him tightly. “Science can wait, at least for a little while.”

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, you can credit (blame?) thomasina75 for this one. We were talking post-Iron Man 3, and she said she wanted a fic where Tony and Natasha sleep together and she doesn’t kill him afterward. And then I was like, “Well, Natasha might take Tony for a ride if Clint said he was excellent in the sack and encouraged her to go for it.” And we thought the other Avengers might be disappointed to be left out, and yeah. If it makes a difference to you, it’s Tony/Bruce at the end. Also happens to fill my trope_bingo square “sex pollen” and the hc_bingo prompt “abandonment issues.”


End file.
